How Never Became Forever
by morvamp
Summary: Elena's established rules and guidelines for her relationships. She knows how to stay emotionally detached and when to cut the cord. But then she meets Damon, who could potentially change everything. AU. AH.
1. Chapter 1

**This story came to me after I read a particular quote. It's from the show Grey's Anatomy, which I don't watch (no offense to those of you that do) so I have no idea how it relates to that show, but it gave me inspiration for this story. It's below because I had to give it props and plus, I'm absolutely in love with it.**

_**I hope you like the first chapter. :)**_

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><p><em>At some point, you have to make a decision. Boundaries don't keep other people out. They fence you in. Life is messy. That's how we're made. <em>

_So, you can waste your life drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them._

_. . ._

I pulled on the incredibly tacky bronze handle of Jerry's Pub and stepped inside of the local bar; the familiar smell of stale beer and peanuts attacking my nostrils as I did.

_Thank God I go back to school tomorrow,_ I thought to myself as I searched the sea of friendly faces for my two best friends. I finally spotted them towards the back of the pub, nestled in a booth between an elderly couple and a group of teenage boys sporting Mystic Falls High School varsity jackets.

I shook my head with a slight grin slashed across my lips and once again found myself thanking God; this time for no longer having to attend that damn high school. I then made my way to the back of the bar, my black high-heeled boots clanking against the old hardwood floors as I did, and slid into the cracked leather booth.

The high school boys' necks, sitting in the booth directly beside ours, craned as they watched my ass disappear against the seat. They lingered a few more seconds, drifting between my girlfriends and I, before they finally went back to their own business.

I'd gotten used to this attention long ago. As a matter of fact, we all had. It started a year and a half ago when our trio arrived at Richmond University for our freshman year. We were deemed the small town girls with a stylish flare, which boys found impeccably endearing. Or maybe they just thought we'd be easy to hit in the sack. I'm not sure.

Point is; we'd all experienced the gawks, dropped jaws, and lingering eyes long enough to have become immune to it by this point. So I ignored it and my friends did the same.

"Here's your Miller Lite, my dear," Caroline said with a genuine smile on her face as she pushed the amber bottle in front of me. "It'll have to do since our old friend Ben behind the bar has no idea how to mix a seabreeze."

I laughed at the statement, finding it all too fitting that the single bar in Mystic Falls wouldn't know how to make the simplest of cocktails before I lifted the chilled bottle to my lips. I took a sip of the beer, enjoying the taste as the hops slipped down the back of my throat because regardless of whether it was my first choice or not, it was still alcohol.

"Did you tell him that it was just vodka, cranberry, and grapefruit juice?" I asked as I set the bottle back onto the sticky wooden table.

"Yep; apparently they don't have grapefruit juice," Caroline scoffed with a slight roll of her eyes.

"Ladies, it's fine," Bonnie reasoned from across the table. "We're headed back to Richmond tomorrow and there'll be plenty of cocktails and boys to make up for this drought when we get to the dorms."

"We're gonna need as many of both as we can get," I declared as I lifted my bottle into the air and my two friends clinked their drinks to mine.

We did this because tonight we were celebrating. Winter break had officially come to an end and we'd be returning to our regularly scheduled lifestyle tomorrow. We just had to get through the last remaining hours and it seemed easier to bear with alcohol; everything was really.

Truth was; this was our hometown. It housed the sandbox where the three of us met for the first time and held all of the memories of our childhood and adolescent years, but none of us ever enjoyed coming back. It wasn't exactly that we weren't nostalgic or appreciative of certain memories this place gave us; we were, but there were other individual reasons we all despised this town.

For Bonnie, it was the lack of potential guys prowling the streets and pub. Everyone in this town was old news to her; no one was original or exciting. She'd either dated or refused them all. For Caroline, it was her high school boyfriend Matt Donovan. He'd been her first love and the first guy to ever break her heart and the threat of bumping into him was always lurking around the corner. And for me, well for me it had nothing to do with boys at all. It was something much more tragic, but I wouldn't let myself think about that tonight. Tonight was about celebrating, not reminiscing.

The bottles sent a clank echoing through the air as we all took a sip of our beverages and lowered them to the table. "I say the first thing we do when we get back is go shopping for outfits," Bonnie announced; a twinkle of excitement lighting up her cinnamon irises. "Mex's is going to be packed tomorrow night and we need to look our best."

"You can count me in," I cheerfully declared, loving the sound of dancing around in a new sequined top. It was a much better alternative than sitting in a musty bar feeling entirely too overdressed like we were now.

Caroline's perfectly shaped brows shot up and a few wrinkles appeared between them as she questioned, "Aren't you going to spend tomorrow with Mason?"

The image of my boyfriend's pale blue eyes, fluffy hair, and sculpted chest briefly drifted across my vision before I pushed it away.

"I'll be with him for a while in the morning, but I'm ready to end things," I answered dismissively before a smile slid across my lips. "Which leaves me free to party with my favorites."

"Elena," Caroline whined in opposition. "I like Mason."

"You like everyone," Bonnie scoffed with a disdainful glance in the blonde's direction.

"Not true," Caroline refuted defensively. "I hated Trevor Davis in pre-school. That little bastard stole my building blocks and refused to give them back."

"Point taken," Bonnie sarcastically responded before her eyes focused in on me. "Why are you ready to end things?" she asked before her hands shot frantically through the air. "Wait, wait, wait! Let's do the game."

"Must we?" I groaned because I really wasn't in the mood to listen to my friends shout out guesses as to why I was ending things with my current boyfriend. It had been fun the first time, way back in freshman year when I broke up with Dean Keller for chewing gum every time we started making out, but over the years it had gotten old.

Unfortunately for me, partaking in the game hadn't become old or dull to my best friends. My emotionally screwed-up rules and regulations for dating, as Caroline liked to refer to them, were an excellent source of entertainment. I would decide I was ready to break up with a guy and they'd partake in figuring out why I chose to do so. It was simple and harmless really, but a blatant reminder of the guarded female I'd become.

"Of course we must," Bonnie chastised as her tongue stuck slightly out of her mouth and her eyes drifted towards the ceiling; clearly in deep thought over her first guess.

"Did he try to wrap his arm around you in the movie theater?" Caroline asked; officially starting the game I considered my own personal hell.

"Please," I scoffed and took another swig of my beer. "Even I'm not that ridiculous."

"I'd beg to differ," Caroline muttered under her breath before repeating my action.

"Did the sex get stale?" Bonnie questioned at an octave a little inappropriate considering the words that had left her lips.

The older woman seated behind her turned around and scrunched up her nose in disgust before turning back around.

"Surprisingly it didn't," I offered with a slight cock of my head. That fact genuinely surprised me since more times than not, it did.

"He tried to get you to talk about your past didn't he?" Caroline asked confidently.

I had to give her credit because, more times than not, this was the reason I broke things off with guys. It was my cardinal rule number one: no talking about myself too richly and certainly no divulging into my past.

So, I clanked my beer against hers and commended, "Good guess, but no."

"Did he say the unforgivable phrase?" Bonnie questioned with a mocking cringe and a slight chuckle.

For that I reached across the table and slapped her on the shoulder. To everyone else, _I love you_ was a cherished phrase; something girls dreamed of hearing from their significant others. But for me, it resulted in the screeching tires and slamming the car into reverse effect. I didn't want to hear those words from anyone, especially not someone I'd recently met. They were reserved only for those that held a special place in my heart; those I'd known since I'd lived, well, here.

I imitated the obnoxious sound of a game show buzzer and declared, "Wrong again! But feel free to keep trying."

And they did.

One beer for me and four drinks for each of them later, they still hadn't guessed the correct reason I'd decided to break up with Mason. It was getting almost absurd, but still the girls kept spitting, well slurring, out guesses.

"He tried for back door access didn't he?" Bonnie asked, resulting in another glance from the elderly woman behind us. I was pretty sure the woman was going to wrap her wrinkly fingers around my friend's neck and strangle her if we kept this up.

So for the sake of my best friend's life, I threw my hands up into the air and exasperated, "Game over. I think we've been at this long enough, so I'm just going to tell you!"

But Caroline's hand shot into the air as she snapped her fingers and proclaimed, "No! I know why you're breaking up with him."

"Fine, you get one last guess," I subsided with a soft sigh and a roll of my eyes.

I placed my chin to rest of the palm of my hand as she declared, "It's been three months!"

"It totally has!" Bonnie exclaimed before her mouth dropped open in astonishment and her hand slapped across her forehead. "How could I not remember that?"

"Maybe because you've had a few too many to drink, you lightweight," I deadpanned, which resulted in a heated look from my ebony friend.

"Don't go all fun police on us now, girl. I respect your two drink limit, but the rest of us like to let loose every once in a while," Bonnie slurred out.

"Or every night," Caroline giggled beside her.

They clanked glasses, spilling a few drops against the cheap wooden top of the table and sipped their beverages.

I quickly thanked whoever the hell would listen that my friends had taken a cab to the bar tonight instead of driving themselves.

"But you're really breaking up with him because it's been three months?" Caroline whined; a judging sadness flooding across her greyish blue eyes.

"You know I am, Care," I reasoned softly. There was just something about my friend's endless optimism that always inserted itself into my chest, making me feel terrible for dragging her through my relationship dismissals.

"But if you like him, then why?" she stressed, resulting in a roll of Bonnie's eyes beside her.

She knew perfectly well why I had to break up with him. It wasn't anything new since this three month cut-off had been one of the rules that I'd established first for my dating life. It was the precise time where things in a relationship either became dull or heavy. The relationship either became too much of an established routine without any excitement or deeper questions started being asked. The latter led to cardinal rule number one and if I ignored that rule, emotions started to get involved.

At that point, I'd start to _really_ know the guy and he'd really get to know me. Feelings became involved, heart's become bare, and eventually I love you's would be exchanged. Then a month later they'd decide to take advantage of your bare heart and crush it between their fingers, leaving you shattered and emotionally unstable for months to follow.

This train of events would happen because in real life princes weren't waiting around the corner to sweep you off your feet. There were only villains in this world and they hurt you enough without offering yourself up for prince charming to do the same. Some could consider me a cynic, but I just saw it as realistic. I was simply protecting myself from the inevitable hurt.

Caroline knew how I felt about this, and yet, she always had to push the issue. I couldn't hate her for it because she'd always been a hopeless romantic. She was your typical drop-a-single-flower-petal-at-a-time type of girl; always wishing for the love of her life to appear. We simply had different opinions when it came to relationships; that's all.

Normally, I would have bickered back and forth a few minutes trying to get her to understand the importance of my so-called ridiculous rules, but I was already mildly irritated with my friend's buzzed behavior and decided against it. It wouldn't have gotten through the alcohol in her system anyway.

So, I slid my butt off of the seat, vaguely noticing the teenagers staring at me as I did, and declared, "I'm gonna grab a water from the bar. Do you guys need anything?"

"I'll take another," Bonnie answered cheerfully.

"Me too," Caroline added enthusiastically.

"Of course you would," I muttered as I turned away from the table and made my path to the bar.

There was a band playing in the middle of the tiny pub, which had earlier referred to themselves as S.O. Stereo, and as a result the place was now packed. It made it relatively difficult weaving my way through the crowd, but after a few shoves and slick maneuvers, my elbows made contact with the dripping bar.

I immediately lifted my arms from the wood and wondered if a soaked shaggy dog had recently shook itself off on top of it, when Ben approached me.

"Hey Elena, what can I get you?" he asked me with familiar googly, appreciative eyes.

"I'll just take a water and the regular for the girls," I answered as my head drifted to the side. The band was in full performance mode and the crowd was cheering along. The sounds coming out of the speakers were awful enough to make my ears bleed and I momentarily wondered what anyone saw in them.

"Here you go," Ben announced as he set the three drinks on top of the bar. "It'll be $7.50."

I swiped a 10 dollar bill from my clutch and threw it onto the bar as he added, "You know, you're looking pretty good these days."

The guy was unfathomable. He'd been trying to get into my pants since high school and although he was nice and friendly, he really did nothing for me. I'd made this crystal clear in the past, so it honestly blew my mind that he still continued to try.

I lowered my head and rolled my eyes as I stretched my fingers around the three drinks. I then muttered, "Thanks," and turned around to head back to the table.

I'd only made it a few steps when the back of someone slammed into me, sending my water and the girl's alcohol all down my front.

"You have got to be kidding me," I exasperated as the plastic cups toppled to the floor and I flicked the liquid from my fingertips.

The body in front of me turned around; revealing a guy who appeared to be about a year or two older than myself. Everything about him was dark; the deep wash of his jeans, the leather of his jacket; even the strands of his raven disheveled hair that seemed to fall effortless around his chiseled face. He screamed bad boy with the capability of ripping your heart from your chest.

But then I caught sight of his eyes and I have to admit, I briefly faltered at the sight of them. They were the most remarkable shade of blue I'd ever witnessed and they completely contrasted with the rest of his physical appearance. There was a warmth swimming inside of them that gave a girl the thought she could trust him, but I knew better that to fall for that shit.

You couldn't trust anyone; especially not someone who looked like this guy did.

"I am so sorry," the guy said as his eyes roamed over my soaked attire. "Here let me get you some napkins."

His hand extended towards my back, attempting to guide me towards the bar, but I pushed it away and scoffed, "I'm fine. I can get them myself."

I reached over, snatched a few from the holder, and started patting my stained shirt; absolutely refusing to let my eyes make contact with his again as I did.

"Look, I'm really sorry about that," he reasoned. "At least let me buy you replacements."

"It's really not necessary," I replied in a clipped tone, still trying my best to salvage my favorite red camisole.

"I insist," he urged.

I finally lifted my eyes to look at him. There was just something so genuine about the way he was looking at me now; like he truly felt terrible that my drinks had ended up over my front instead of in my stomach.

"Fine," I succumbed with a sigh, because the girls would be dramatically devastated if I came back empty handed. At least, this way I wouldn't have to fork out any more money. "Ben, I need three more drinks. Same as before."

"I really _am_ sorry," he said as I once again resumed my efforts of salvaging my shirt. "Do you think it's going to survive?"

I glanced up at him again with a confused expression on my face. His eyes drifted to my top, signifying it was what he was referring to, as I rolled mine and huffed. "Probably not."

His eyes narrowed a bit at my tone but there was the slightest ghost of a smirk on his lips as he assessed, "You seem to have a chip on your shoulder."

I grimaced at his statement; finding it entirely fitting that this guy would assume that he knows everything about me. So I challenged back, "And you seem to be hovering around where you're not wanted."

"I need to pay for your drinks don't I?" he countered as his hands floated into the air; an innocent expression on his face.

He'd cornered me there and when I opened my mouth to speak, I found myself at a loss of words. He had a point and I couldn't exactly ask him to hand me the money and leave.

So I said nothing and just focused my attention on my shirt until Ben came back with the replacement drinks. He sat them on the table as my assaulter handed him a 10 dollar bill and I gave up on my shirt. I threw the saturated napkins onto the bar and reached for the cups when the guy interjected.

"Look, you seem like you could be a nice girl under different circumstances, so let's try this again," he attempted as his hand stretched out and hovered in the air, waiting for mine. "I'm Damon."

"And I'm not interested," I quipped back and picked up the drinks.

He momentarily appeared taken aback by my disinterest, which didn't surprise me in the least. This guy didn't exactly seem like the type who got rejected often.

But then he recomposed himself and crossed his arms over his chest. "So you're telling me you don't feel it?"

"Feel what exactly?" I asked in a slightly irritated tone.

"Our chemistry; our potential," he answered with a grin slashed across his lips. "You and me; we could be something big."

The line was extremely cheesy, but for some reason it seemed like he meant it. Like he knew from the moment his eyes landed on me that we had the potential for some epic romance that changed the way we both saw the world.

It was absurd and I couldn't resist the laugh that escaped from my lips after I heard it.

"Does that line work on many girls?" I asked mockingly as I set the drinks back onto the bar. "Because it's really not having any effect on me."

The grin on his face disappeared and he looked somewhat offended as he responded, "I don't use it with other girls."

His eyes were directed on only mine now; they weren't roaming over my body like most did. The change was nice really, but that didn't mean I had to fall for his whole nice guy act. The guy was dark; that was easy to see. He had the capability of grinding my little heart between his teeth and spitting it back out onto the floor.

Plus, by no means did he fall into my typical dating category.

I went for the sweet guys; the ones that wore polos, had relationships with their mamas, and knew how to treat a girl. They were the safe ones, the ones that wouldn't think twice about breaking my heart before I broke theirs.

Damon didn't seem to fit any of those bills. If anything, he represented the exact opposite of what I usually went for. He was an unknown, something that held the potential for excitement; certainly something original, but dangerous. With him, I wouldn't even know how to begin to protect myself.

So I laughed again, making sure to edge it with something icy and quipped, "Sure you don't."

His eyes narrowed skeptically and I found the need to continue, "Look, I get it. You're not used to being rejected and now that you are, you feel drawn to me. It's just the chase and as soon as I walk away, you'll forget all about me."

"Oh, I doubt that," he refuted with conviction; the smirk slashing across his lips again.

I sighed and rolled my eyes because clearly the concept of me rejecting him wasn't breaking through his cocky wall. "I guess we're just gonna have to agree to disagree then."

"Or you could give me a chance," he countered lightly; a spark of hope appearing in those impossibly inviting eyes of his.

"I can't," I replied softly, imitating the tone I'd taken earlier with Caroline. It annoyed me slightly that this guy had already managed to creep under my skin the same way as my best friend, but I pushed it aside and added, "I'm sorry, but it's never going to happen."

I then lifted my drinks from the bar and turned around. I'd only taken two steps when Damon suggested, "You're gonna regret walking away."

I sighed and paused for a second as he added, "You never know, you might have even liked me."

_That's the problem_ I thought. Aloud, I said, "Well, I guess I'm just gonna have to take that chance," and started walking away.

"You could still turn around," he called out after me. His voice was light and cheerful, not desperate like the plea would have sounded coming from anyone else.

And at that, I had to shake my head because that was something I never did; you never looked back.

So, I didn't and declared, "Never."

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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	2. Chapter 2

**I know I told some of you that certain characters were going to be introduced in this chapter, but I switched it up once I began writing it. I got worried that too much would happen and I wouldn't be able to include Damon, so I just threw in an extra Damon scene to finish up this chapter before Elena gets home. I figured you guys wouldn't mind. ;)**

**Hope you like it!**

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><p><strong>Five Months Later<strong>

Elijah's fingers went straight to the button of my jeans, flipping it undone without any hassle; no fumbling whatsoever. But this was how sex had become with us over the past two months. There was never any romance or teasing before we got down to business. And I didn't mind; it was actually the way I preferred it.

My pants were ripped off and I was on the bed before his lips even approached mine and when he arched a finger between my thighs and into my center, I released a soft moan.

It was a shame that I had come here to end things when he was so skilled in the sex department, but I was heading back to Mystic Falls in an hour and there was no way in hell I was entering into a long distance relationship.

Yes, it was one of my rules, but even if it wasn't, I'd have still ended things because it was a known fact that, more times than not, long-distance didn't work out. That type of relationship required deep commitment and, at the barest, a certain form of love that I was incapable of producing. But I'd trained Elijah to become the sex god he was and there was no way I was walking away from him without one last hoorah.

Many nights in his twin bed were spent getting him up to speed on what it _really_ took to please a woman sexually. He'd only recently figured it out and I refused to let him go without reaching the ultimate high, his body supplied when it was inside of me, before I did. I was the reason he'd become the man he had, after all, and it only seemed fair that I received my compensation.

His mouth made contact with my neck as his index finger slid against my special spot. He stroked the area with a perfect mixture of gentle and rough caresses as his thumb vibrated against my clit. I released another pleasure-filled moan as his tongue slid its way up to the base of my earlobe. And when he nipped at the bottom with his teeth, I knew I was seconds away from reaching the top step of my climatic ladder; just a few more strokes and he'd have me blasting through the solar system.

My back arched as I felt the first wave approach and braced myself for its impact. Seconds later it crashed through me and as my body convulsed in euphoric bliss, my hand latched onto the sheets of his bed for support. I pulled harder, practically removing the sheet from the mattress, as he continued to stroke masterfully inside of me.

But that was when I felt another fabric slide against my arm; something unfamiliar and not at all smooth like the bed sheet. And as the last wave of my orgasm subsided, I glanced to my right, only to notice something bright orange and lacy resting beside me.

I reached my left arm across my stomach and lifted the tacky bra into the air with a disgusted expression shadowing my features. "Who's is this?" I asked, doing my best to keep my anger at bay.

Elijah removed his contact from my neck to glance at the bra. There was a brief moment where his eyes gave everything away before he composed himself and suggested, "Obviously, it's yours."

"It most certainly is not," I shouted, throwing him off of me and lifting myself from the bed. There was no fucking way it was mine; I would never be caught dead in that disgusting shade of orange. "So whose is it?"

Elijah stared at me like a deer stuck in headlights. He didn't move or speak a single word, but I could see the gears twisting in his head; working frantically to formulate any believable lie.

It was then that I shook my head in disgust. "You know what? It doesn't matter," I gritted out through my teeth as I snatched my black boy shorts and skinny jeans from the floor. "I came here to break up with you anyway and you just made it easier," I spat out venomously. "So, thank you."

The anger scorched his features then; twisting and contorting them into something feral, as he shouted, "Don't stand there and pretend that you're upset about this, Elena. You've made it clear from the start that this was just a fun relationship until the end of the semester."

I'd successfully pulled my pants up over my ass at this point, but froze at his last statement. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins, inflaming me with rage. "A fun _relationship_," I clarified, stretching out the last word and emphasizing every single piece of its connotation. "Which means just you and me; not the two of us and whatever other girl you wanted to screw on the side."

He released a frustrated snort and declared, "You're not going to make me feel bad about enjoying my time at college."

The laugh that came from my throat was bitter and tainted by betrayal as I screamed, "I wouldn't fathom the idea of getting you to feel bad about anything."

Then I buttoned my jeans and declared, "You know what? Fuck you, fuck whoever you cheated on me with, and go to hell." My hand flew spastically through the air as I added, "Needless to say, we're through."

I turned around and yanked opened his door; rays of light blasted me from the dorm hallway, as he accused, "We never even got started. You made sure of that!"

I glanced back at him one last time. The thin bar of light from the hallway illuminated just his face, allowing me to see the real him and I had to admit it wasn't a pretty sight.

"And it's guys like you that are exactly the reason why!" I proclaimed before I slammed the door shut behind me.

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><p>I'd just finished throwing the last articles of my clothing into the back seat of my car when my cell buzzed from its location in my pocket. I slammed the door shut and took my spot in the driver's seat as I swiped it out and clicked answer.<p>

"Hello?" I answered in a slightly irritated tone because honestly I was in no mood for conversation.

"Well," Bonnie began, "I heard you broke up with Elijah."

"Go figure," I deadpanned. Even with half of the student body already gone for the holidays, our social network was still thriving. "I thought you were already halfway home by now. How did you even hear?"

"It's not every day a girl breaks up with her boyfriend by screaming at him through an open doorway," Bonnie reasoned with a hint of bemusement in her voice. "Naturally, Rose called to fill me in."

"Naturally," I rationalized.

She laughed at the mocking tone of my statement and asked, "So, why were you screaming at him? I mean, usually you're so composed during these breakups. And from the story I heard, you sounded nothing like your typical self."

Bonnie was right. I'd partaken in so many of these breakups that they'd practically become routine. I entered into them with a clear understanding of what I was going to say and how I was going to console the guy I was breaking up with. The key was inducing the perfect amount of strength and compassion to escape the moment without appearing like a heartless bitch. Usually, I executed my plans flawlessly, but Elijah had caught me off guard. And as a result, I'd let my emotions rise above the surface.

I wasn't proud of myself, but for the sake of keeping Bonnie in the loop, I explained, "That's because my typical self doesn't usually get the bombshell that she's been cheated on right before she attempts to break up with a guy."

"Oh no, Elena, are you alright? I'm so sorry," Bonnie responded sympathetically. "What a bastard!"

I shook my head through the air and assured, "I'm fine; really. If anything, he just reminded me of why I keep my walls up."

"Exactly," Bonnie agreed. "Guys may be fun and have this weird ability to make you feel good for a while, but at the end of the day they're all exactly the same."

At that, I felt the smile creep over my lips because while Caroline was our token romantic of the trio, Bonnie was exactly like me. She didn't trust men and their sole purpose was entertainment. She bounced from one to the next without missing a beat and for that, I truly respected her.

She had the capability of completely removing her emotions from a relationship, whereas mine tended to rear their ugly head from time to time. It didn't occur often, but that's what happens when you're a converted romantic. It's hard to completely remove a side of you that was once so significant and it was something I was working on; something Bonnie would always be there to guide me through.

So, naturally I agreed with her.

"Yeah, at the end of the day they're nothing but a gender of self-absorbed assholes who use you to get what they want," I elaborated before I let out a breath of air and added, "I'm just pissed that I made him so good in the sack. Now some other bitch gets to take advantage of what I created."

There was a brief silence where I imagined Bonnie's eyes drifting towards the ceiling; formulating some perfect response to my bitter statement that would explain how I'd come out of this situation the victor.

But she must have given up because instead, she said, "You know what? Screw him and his mystery whore, Elena. Don't even think about it."

"It's summertime," she continued, "which means we don't have to worry about school or any of its unnecessary drama for a whole four months. Let's just look forward to the potential of hot air and sticky biceps."

"In Mystic Falls," I muttered. "Not a way to cheer me up, Bonnie."

She giggled a bit at my cynicism and refuted, "So, it's not exactly a prime location, but our possibilities are endless."

"What happened to my best friend?" I asked skeptically. I'd become so accustom to our shared disdain towards our hometown, that her optimism was perplexing. "Did you and Caroline switch bodies?"

"Nope, I'm just trying to get you excited," she replied in a chipper tone. But then she paused for a second before admitting, "I know Elijah threw you a curveball and that you're not used to dealing with them. You don't have to admit it, but I know you're upset."

"I'm not upset; I'm pissed," I clarified.

"Regardless; he messed up and now you have to deal with that," she rationalized. "You have an hour and a half drive home to scream or cry or do whatever you need to do to get it out of your system, but that's it. Because when you get home, I need my flirty, spunky sidekick back."

"Don't worry; you'll have her," I assured because there was no way in hell I was letting this unfortunate incident ruin my mood. Actually, I'd already decided to forget about it.

"Fantastic!" she exclaimed. "Because we're going to Duke's bonfire tonight and we're gonna find you the perfect replacement for Elijah."

I debated arguing with her, but came to the realization that it wouldn't get me anywhere. It didn't matter if I told her I wasn't raring to find a replacement man just yet, because once Bonnie set her mind to something, there really was no refuting her.

Besides, she possessed the attention span of a goldfish. It was likely that she'd forget all about finding me a replacement by the time the sun went down.

So, I just rolled my eyes and replied, "Whatever you say. I'll call you later."

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><p>An hour and two Britney Spears CDs later, I'd forgotten all about Elijah and his man whorish-behaviors. The sun was shining bright and my hair was flipping through the breeze when I turned off the exit for Mystic Falls.<p>

I was feeling good; remarkably good considering the morning I'd had, but all of that changed as soon as I passed by the Welcome To Mystic Falls sign. It was then I felt the familiar chill rip down my spine and the cold sweats spread over my skin.

I told myself to just focus on keeping the oxygen flowing in and out of my lungs, but it didn't take long for the tears to develop in the corners of my eyes; casting a blur over everything in my vision.

Feeling frustrated, I shook my head because it was truly absurd that after 3 years, I still felt this initial reaction every time I crossed over the town border. But I guess that's what happens when a place you used to love suddenly becomes nothing more than a burial ground.

It was all I could see now; my parents conjoined gravestone and the cemetery it resided in.

When I thought about this town, I no longer remembered the decade dances I'd attended with various dates, the nights I'd spent crawling through my window to get to some party, the laughter of my friends as we tore down interstate 81 in Caroline's convertible VW Bug, or the countless times I'd woken up to the delicious smell of pancakes in the kitchen.

All I could think about now was the car accident that resulted in my parents two bodies buried lifelessly a few feet below the surface. Just far enough beyond my reach that I could no longer wrap my father in one of those traditional bear hugs he adored so much or kiss the soft skin of my mother's cheek. All I could do was hover above them and hope that whatever I spoke somehow seeped into the soil and down to where they rested.

I frantically wiped a stray tear as it slid down my face and reprimanded myself for being so ridiculous, when the object in the road came into view. Unfortunately, by the time my water soaked eyes managed to focus in on the tree branch, I was already too close to swerve out of the way.

Images of my parents and their end flashed across my vision when the right side of my car struck the wood and skidded over it with a loud thud. My body bounced and jerked around in the seat as the wheels screeched in painful objection. The moment felt like it lasted an eternity, but in reality, it had been just a second before I managed to successfully slam my car to a halt.

With my hands white knuckling the steering wheel, I took a few deeps breath to calm my racing heartbeat. And when the numbness left my legs and I finally regained my bearings, I threw open my door.

Without the rushing wind, the summer air of Mystic Falls had the consistency of hot soup as I made my way to check out the side of my car. Miraculously, the body and paint were untouched; the glossy blue still shining in the gleams of sunlight. I let out a sigh of relief and found it unbelievable that after an accident like that one, both myself and my car had come out unscathed. But then my eyes drifted down to my front tire. There was a huge gash in the tread that started at the top and disappeared under the section where it met with the asphalt below. It was completely flat, which wouldn't have been a big deal if I knew how to change a flat tire.

My eyes hopelessly searched the deserted road for any signs of life that could offer aid in my dilemma, but I was greeted by only tress lining each side.

"This is just great," I muttered to myself as I ran my hand through my hair. Sweat had already started to develop along my neck, adding to my irritation, as I wiped away any residue from my previously tear drenched eyes.

I was fairly certain I'd removed all evidence from my breakdown when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

"Hello?" I answered in relief.

"I just heard about what happened with Elijah," Caroline started in. "I am so sorry, Elena. You must be devastated."

"That's the least of my worries right now," I dismissed as she continued to blabber on about my feelings and the state I must be in. "I'm stranded on the side of the road!"

Caroline's rambling instantly stopped and she asked, "What?"

"I ran over a tree branch and gashed my tire," I explained. "I don't even know how to change it and I'm kinda freaking out!"

"Well, where are you?" she questioned in a rational tone that resembled the way my mother used to sound when she went into action.

"I just passed the welcome sign on Burbank Road," I answered. "I haven't seen a single car in miles, Care."

"Alright, just give me a minute and I can be there to help you out," she started when something black appeared in the distance. My eyes locked in as the object approached and I realized it was someone on a motorcycle, barreling towards me. I frantically waved my hands around in the air when the person noticed me and slowed their speed.

My helper pulled the motorcycle onto the side of the road and cut it's engine, leaving the air with a surreal silence. And as they threw their leg over the seat, I told Caroline, "I've gotta go, someone's here," and disconnected the call.

Relief swirled around my stomach as the person removed their helmet and instantly I felt my breath hitch in my throat. Black hair fell out and blue eyes met mine before the familiar guy from Jerry's Pub set his helmet onto the seat of his bike.

All I could do was stare and internally curse this day for shitting on me once again as he approached. Because, seriously, how was it possible that of all people, this guy had to be the one to find me helpless on the side of the road? Around him, I was supposed to appear strong and confident, not like a damsel in freaking distress.

"Well, if it isn't the girl that walked away," Damon assessed with that stupid, cocky grin stretched across his lips. I wanted to smack it off of his face, but for the sake of fixing my car and getting back on my merry way, I resisted.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm the mean girl that rejected you," I dismissed. "But can we look past that for a minute so you can help me fix my car?"

He laughed as though my impatience was adorable and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I ran over a stupid stick and it slashed my tire," I explained as my hand pointed to the evidence, much like Vana White would do. "I have a spare in my trunk, but I never learned how to change one."

"Figures," he teased as he walked over to assess the damage.

Considering I needed his help, it really was in my best interest to offer him my best behavior, but he'd struck a chord. "Don't pretend like you know anything about me," I ordered as my hands slid defensively over my chest. "You did that when I met you and I hate it."

"I'm not pretending like I know you," he countered. "I was just making an observation and it seemed fitting that a girl like you, standing on the side of the road in 4" heals, wouldn't know where to begin when changing a flat tire."

I briefly glanced down at my red pumps and responded snarkily, "That sounds exactly like what I was inferring."

He laughed again and shook his head, sending strands of hair fluttering around his face. "I can see you still have that chip on your shoulder."

"It's one of my many endearing qualities," I quipped and immediately regretted the statement. The last thing I needed was for this guy to think I was flirting with him, especially since I'd made the decision to steer clear of men for at least a few weeks after this morning's incident.

But to my relief, he ignored the statement and stepped around to the back of my trunk. "The spares in here?"

I took a few strides to stand beside him and answered, "Yeah," before I popped the trunk open.

His eyes widened as he took in the enormous pile of clothing and I added, "But we're gonna have to dig through my stuff to get it."

His hand extended to pick up a pair of my red lace underwear before he waved them through the air. A devilish grin appeared on his lips as his eyes narrowed seductively and he teased, "Answer me honestly, are you a hooker or are you just moving?"

I felt the embarrassment flush across my cheeks as I snatched the panties from his grubby hands and shoved them into my pocket. Then I punched him square in the arm and chastised, "My lingerie is none of your business, nor is my personal life!"

He chuckled as though my punch felt like nothing more than the flap of a butterfly wing, and countered, "But if you're profession's illegal, I think that's something I need to interfere with."

"You know, you're only hurting yourself by sleeping around," he joked.

I gathered every ounce of my will to keep from punching the guy again. It wouldn't have had any effect on him if I did, but at least it would have released a little of my frustration. But I managed to resist the urge and instead exasperated, "You're insufferable."

He cocked his head to the side, never removing that conceited smirk as he did, and mused, "I've been called many things; but never insufferable."

"I'm sure you have, but there's really _no_ need to elaborate," I scoffed.

Much to my annoyance, he chuckled again; like my petty attitude resembled that of a 4 year old child he found endearing. I felt the steam rise under my surface because this guy was just downright ridiculous. It was almost like nothing I threw at him had any effect on his confidence, but then my thoughts fizzled away when he bent down and lifted up the carpet floor of my trunk to reveal my spare.

The muscles on his back tightened and I could clearly see them through the thin cotton fabric of his t-shirt. A small trail of perspiration had developed right at the neckline and my tongue suddenly felt three sizes too large inside of my Sahara dry mouth.

"Can you hold this for me?" he asked and I shook myself out of my trance.

I reached forward and took hold of the carpet so he could lift the spare, jack, and tire iron from the compartment. The weight of my clothes was surprisingly not as issue as I held up the flap, which allowed me to concentrate all of my focus on mentally scolding myself.

Damon set the tire on the ground and pumped the jack a few times, lifting the car a foot off of the ground. As he began twisting the tire iron and removing the lug nuts, in proper star like fashion, he asked, "So really, what's with all of the clothes?"

"I'm moving home for the summer," I answered with my eyes fixated on the bulge of his bicep.

"That's the first time you've given me a response without any sort of attitude," he pointed out thoughtfully as his eyes drifted up to meet mine.

The blue was like a punch in the gut, thankfully jolting me back to reality. I reminded myself that this guy was absolutely off limits because if a simple country boy like Elijah was able to take advantage of me this morning, I could only imagine what Damon could potentially do to me. Cheating seemed like the least of my worries when it came to him.

So, I replaced my chilled exterior and retorted, "You're helping me out, so I figured you deserved the truth. Don't get used to it, though."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he remarked as his head swung around and his eyes drifted back to the wheel.

"But since I've got this rare form of you now, answer me this," he said as he continued working on my tire. "Is this cold side of you real or just a front?"

"What do you mean by that," I questioned, half offended and half intrigued.

The flat tire tumbled to the ground as Damon lifted the spare and began twisting the lug nuts back into place. His eyes never deviated from his handiwork as he clarified, "You know exactly what I mean. Is this really the way you are or is it just an act to keep yourself guarded?"

That officially pissed me off because there was no freaking way this guy already understood me that well. It was just impossible. So, I rolled my eyes and sneered, "And there you go again with the whole thinking you know me bit."

"You're deflecting," he assessed in a sing song voice; clearly implying I'd given away my answer.

"I'm just choosing not to answer the question," I countered defensively as he screwed the last lug bolt into place.

He lifted himself from the ground and threw the tools back into the compartment. Then he turned on me and succumbed, "That's fine; I'll find out eventually;" the smirk on his face only solidifying the fact that he really believed he would.

So I contorted my face with a scowl and lifted the carpet so he could put the destroyed tire in the spare's place. As I lowered the carpet back down, he turned on me again. His face was so enticingly close I could smell his aftershave. "I know you're dreading having to thank me for this," he began. "So let me cut you a deal."

"You just tell me your name instead," he offered with a hopeful glint lighting up his topaz orbs.

I hated to admit that his assumption was correct and mentally wavered which option was more beneficial for me to pick, before I released a sigh and declared, "I'm Elena."

"See, now that wasn't so bad," he teased in a light voice. "We're already getting to know each other."

"And_ that's_ my cue to leave," I quipped as I slammed the trunk of my car shut.

"Well then, I guess I'll be seeing you around, Elena," he purred against my ear; somehow elongating my name and making it sound much sultrier than it ever had before.

It was then I realized how torturous the summer was going to be. I mean, this town was difficult enough to survive with just the thoughts of my parents swirling around my mind, but now I also had to worry about Damon popping in and out of it throughout my stay.

"I guess you will," I gritted out with a slight cock of my head before I hastily made my way to the front of my car and threw it into drive. Thankfully, my wheels didn't squeal from my rapid departure.

I sped swiftly down the road in an attempt to place as much distance between Damon and myself as possible. I was thankful for the air rushing through my window because the heat from outside had left me feeling flushed. My cheeks burned and my hands were sweating against the steering wheel as I approached the hill. But as I made my way over it and began descending, I couldn't resist sneaking one last glance in my rear view mirror as the dark figure, stepping back onto the motorcycle, disappeared behind the other side.

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review!<strong>_

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**Just a heads up****: I am going to be celebrating my birthday this weekend; yes, I'm one of those obnoxious girls that claims an entire weekend for her birthday. So I'm not going to have any time to write the next chapter until next week. It'll probably be about a week before it's posted.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Surprise! All of your wonderful reviews and birthday wishes had me feeling super grateful. So I forced myself to sit in front of the computer and write this chapter last night.**

_**Hope you like it! :)**_

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><p>I pulled up to my aunt Jenna's two story house and took a moment to compose myself before stepping out of the vehicle. The structure looked exactly like it had from when my parents had resided it. From the white siding and black shutters to the swing on the left side of the porch; everything was the same. It had that eerie sense about it that suggested my parents had just taken a long vacation and would be back to reclaim their property when they felt the time was right.<p>

Unfortunately, I knew this wasn't true and as I pushed back the building surge of liquid threatening to impair my sight, I headed up the path to my old front door. I'd just lifted my hand to knock when Jenna threw it open.

"Welcome home sweetie," my aunt greeted as she threw her arms around me and pulled me into a full on bear hug.

Her tight grip was squeezing the air straight out of my lungs, but I managed to get out in between chuckles, "Hey, Jenna."

"It's so good to have you back," she exasperated as her arms finally left my side, allowing me to catch a quick breath.

"It's good to be back," I responded simply for her amusement.

But Jenna knew me too well to actually believe the lie. She understood my reasons for hating this town and knew it had nothing to do with her. I'd spent too many nights, after the death of my parents, cradled in her arms and bawling my eyes for her to actually believe I enjoyed coming back to the place that held so many memories of them.

So, she extended her arm behind my back and gave me a slight squeeze as she sympathized, "Oh, Elena, I know it's difficult." She then guided me through the door and into the familiar living room as she added, "But hopefully with all of the wedding planning going on in this place, you'll be too preoccupied to fall into your memories."

It was then my eyes managed to take in the state of my once cozy living room. All of the original furniture, photographs, and artwork still decorated the place, but they were hardly noticeable amidst the mess of wedding stuff. Stacks of invitations lined the mantle of the fireplace, half tied pew bows were scattered along the floor, and engagement pictures littered the coffee table.

All in all, the place looked like a tornado had just ripped through it.

"Holy shit, Jenna," I proclaimed as my eyes drifted around the room. "How many people are invited to this thing?

"Oh, just a few people from town," she nonchalantly replied as her hand snapped through the air. "And Ric's entire family."

"And that's our problem," a male voice interrupted from the stairwell. "My family just can't seem to stop reproducing. There are at least 60 of us now."

My head whipped around just in time to see my aunt's fiancé Alaric step into the living room. "Good to see you, Elena," he greeted with a warm smile on his lips.

"You too," I replied awkwardly as my hand slipped into his, accepting his shake. His skin was rough like a construction workers, which was weird since he was a history teacher, and he kept contact for a few seconds longer than I would have preferred, before he finally released me.

This wasn't the first time I'd been introduced to Alaric, but it was pretty darn close. I'd seen him twice during my stay over winter break, before he 'moved-in' with my aunt. They'd just recently gotten engaged at that point, so he'd kept his distance, allowing my aunt and I the much needed girl time we required during my stays.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to be the case this summer. From what Jenna had informed me over the phone, Ric still had his own apartment, but more times than not, he stayed with her. They were in the gradual process of moving him over, which seemed appropriate. But that shattered any hopes I'd had of spending quality time with my aunt without the interference of my soon-to-be-uncle in law.

And considering my stance on most men, this made our relationship a bit uncomfortable. I wasn't sure how much my aunt had filled him in about me, but given the uneasy expression on his features, I'd say she'd pretty much covered the gist of it.

"I'm just going to start unloading you're thing," Ric suggested as he pointed his hand towards the door.

"I'll help you," I offered because it was the polite thing to do; not because I was at all eager to help.

"Nah," Jenna intercepted before I was able to take a single step in Ric's direction. "Let the man do the heavy lifting."

"Yeah, I've got it," Ric said, supporting Jenna's decision. "You girls go catch up and I'll just toss everything onto your bed," he added before opening the door and shutting it behind him.

Jenna then led me into the kitchen, where I instinctively made my way over to take a seat in the chair I claimed growing up. I sat in comfortable silence a few moments while she filled a metal tea pot with water and set it onto the stove burner.

But that was when she finally turned on me. She made her way over to take a seat beside me at the kitchen table and stressed, "I know it's going to be difficult for you being here with Ric, but I'd really like it if you gave him a chance."

At that, I had to hold back my biting refusal because by no means did I want to give her fiancé a chance.

I mean, maybe my opinion might have been different if this wasn't Jenna's second preoperational trip to the alter. Her first had been with high school sweetheart, Logan Fell, or as we liked to call him now, Logan SkumFell. He'd broken things off two weeks before the actual day insisting he wasn't ready for that type of commitment. She'd been broken and tattered for months to follow and it was a constant reminder to me of why I keep my guards up.

But for Jenna, it was simply an opportunity to start over fresh. She'd met Ric a year later and claimed that this time, it was the real deal. Honestly, I wasn't sure how it was possible for someone to come back from what she went through and still have the faith in someone to follow up on their promises. The first time had left her burned and Ric held the potential of doing the very same thing.

So, no, I didn't want to give this new guy a chance, but for the sake of keeping a friendly atmosphere in the house, I held back my disdain and instead muttered, "If that's what you want."

"It is, because the two of you will be spending a lot of time together this summer," Jenna said, "and I'd really like it if my Maid of Honor actually approved of the man I was marrying."

_If he actually shows up this time_, I thought to myself. But aloud I replied, "If you like him, I'll like him," with a forced smile on my lips.

"You forget who you're talking to," Jenna retorted with a playful roll of her eyes. "I'm not stupid enough to believe that line. But, just promise me you'll be nice."

We both giggled at her statement, knowing how difficult that simple request was going to be for me, before I shot her a devious smile. I then made the symbol of a cross over my heart and declared, "I'll try my best, but only because it's you."

She nodded her head and appeared satisfied as she stated, "Thank you," in a chipper voice. But then her hand waved spastically through the air, almost as if she was separating the tension of the previous topic, before she suggested, "Now that we have that out of the way. I need updated on everything that's going on in your life!"

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><p>A few hours later, Jenna and I had officially gotten caught up on each other's lives. She told me all about the fiasco's that went with planning a wedding the second time around and I filled her in on all of my boy drama. She took special interest in the mystery guy that had heroically come to my aid this morning, but before I was roped into offering up any more details, I was saved by my cell phone.<p>

It had been Bonnie with details about the evening's bonfire and the precise time she'd be swooping by to pick me up. Thankfully, it left me only enough time to unpack my things and sit through a quick dinner before she'd arrive, which allowed me a easy exit from my conversation with Jenna.

I hastily made my way up the stairs and swung the wooden door of my room open. As I took a step inside, I closed the door and let my eyes wander over its familiar content. The light yellow walls were still as soothing as ever as I scooted over a few articles of clothing and flopped down on my comforter.

I closed my eyes for a second, finding it oddly comforting that my room still held the slight scent of pumpkin spice, before I made my way over to my dresser. Beaded necklaces still hung around the mirror, falling over the photographs of my adolescent years, but only one remained untouched by the jewelry.

My hand instinctively reached out to stroke the glossy photograph of my parents. The tip of my finger stroked the side of my mother's cheek as my thumb played with the lower left hand corner. I felt the familiar moisture creep into my eyes as I studied their faces; finding them both as beautiful as they were the day they'd died.

I thought to myself how ironic it was that my love for them had managed to permanently lock itself into my heart, while also acting as the barrier to keeping my love for others out. It was easy to see that their accident was the reason I was incapable of opening myself up to love, but I didn't blame them. None of this was their fault.

They hadn't chosen to leave me stranded and if any of this had been up to them, they wouldn't have wanted me to lock up the way that I had. But _none_ of this had been up to them. That responsibility had been stripped from them and placed in the hands of the driver whose car smashed into theirs and pushed them over Wickery Bridge.

He was the reason I'd become the person I had and he was the sole person I blamed; not the two angelic figures staring back at me now.

My thoughts drifted to how different my life would be if the accident hadn't happened and I'm not really sure how long I'd been studying the picture when Jenna's voice shouted at me from the bottom of the staircase.

"Are you alright with burgers for dinner?" Jenna asked.

"Sure," I shouted back, my eyes still transfixed on the image of my parents. The longing for them to be here and make everything a bit easier was flowing through me at an unbearable level. But after a few more seconds, I finally peeled my eyes from their photo and pulled myself from my personal black hole.

I then swiveled back around to take in the pile of clothing, on my bed, and narrowed my eyes at the sight. It was certainly going to take the majority of my afternoon putting everything away, but I was welcome for the distraction. And after rummaging through one of my bags for my Ipod, I clicked it into my stereo and got down to work.

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><p>"How was your family dinner?" Bonnie asked in a teasing tone as she pulled the car off of the main road and onto the dirt path.<p>

"Uncomfortable," I deadpanned from the passenger's seat. And uncomfortable was an extreme understatement. Oddly enough, Ric was apparently even more distressed about my joining their happy home for the summer than I had been. Our conversations had been forced and the pauses had been excruciatingly long, even with Jenna's attempts at lightening the air.

"Jenna wants me to give this guy a chance, but I just don't see how I'm ever going to be able to like him if he's too wound up to have a solid conversation with. I mean, he practically spat out his meat when I asked Jenna where she kept her tampons," I complained.

"Maybe he just needs some time to adjust," Caroline reasoned from behind us. "You said he was still in the moving-in phase, so it might take a little while before he's comfortable will full on girl talk."

"I did lay it on pretty thick," I admitted; a sly grin lifting the edge of my lips upward. "But it was too funny watching him squirm to stop."

"You're terrible," Caroline reprimanded as her head shot forward between our seats.

"Well, personally, I would have loved to watch the scene play out," Bonnie countered with a smirk. "It had to be entertaining."

"Yeah, when it wasn't uncomfortable," I retorted as my friend maneuvered her vehicle between two trees and threw it into park.

"At least it's behind you," Bonnie reasoned before she switched off the ignition, threw her door open, and stepped out of the car.

"Until tomorrow," I muttered, repeating her actions.

"Elena, darling, tomorrow's another day and you can worry about it then," Bonnie suggested. "But right now, I need you to just relax and enjoy the party."

"Done," I said with a huge smile lighting up my face because frankly it was what she wanted to hear. And besides, people with red plastic cups were everywhere. Laughter filled the air, mixed in with techno beats blasting from the stereo someone had brought to Duke's party and the place generally looked like it was having a good time. So naturally, I would too.

"Fantastic," Bonnie cheered with a dramatic clap of her hands. "Because I forgot to mention I found you a replacement guy earlier today. He said he was going to be here tonight, so I'm gonna find him."

And before I could interject, she had turned on her heels and headed into the crowd, shouting, "I'll be right back," as she did.

"Great," I muttered under my breath because this was the last thing I needed tonight. I'd banked all of my faith on the fact that my friend would have long since forgotten about her mission to find me a man, only to have it thrown back in my face.

I shook my head back and forth, reprimanding myself for ever agreeing to let her drag me into her summer games, when Caroline leaned against my shoulder.

"I didn't want to bring this up around Bonnie since we know how she is, but I wanted to ask, how are you doing with what happened this morning?"

My mind instantly transported me back to the incident on the side of the road where I'd found myself drooling over some dark-haired demon that was certainly off limits. "I'm fine," I dismissed with a shrug.

"Are you sure? Because I know how much it hurts being cheated on," Caroline sympathized.

"Oh," I spat out before I could help myself. I'd completely forgotten about my episode with Elijah and momentarily wondered how I had so quickly. I shook my head and refused to acknowledge the answer to my personal question as I assured, "Yeah, I promise. I'm fine, but thanks for asking."

"Of course," Caroline reassured as she laced an arm around my back and squeezed. "Just know; I'm here if you need to talk about it."

"Okay," I replied as Bonnie reappeared from the crowd with her hand looped through the arm of an attractive guy.

"Elena," she started with a satisfied grin, "I'd like you to meet Klaus."

I had to hold back the laugh building in the back of my throat because seriously, who the hell named their kid Klaus?

"It's nice to meet you," Klaus stated as his arm extended and waited for mine.

"And that's our cue to go," Bonnie insisted as she laced her arm through Caroline's and dragged her away.

I shot my blonde friend a desperate look, but she merely shrugged and mouthed, "I'm sorry," as she faded into the crowd.

"Your friend could stand to be a little less obvious," Klaus assessed with a chuckle. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure," I succumbed because really how terrible could this guy be?

I got my answer after being cornered against a tree for nearly an hour. I'd successfully learned that other than his looks, Klaus has nothing going for him. Yes, his dirty blonde hair, high-cheekbones and velvety accent were appealing, but that was as far as the appeal went.

Honestly, the guy was a straight up snoozer and at one point, I almost fell asleep and drowned in my red cup. He blabbered on about himself, as well as his family and their business. Apparently, Klaus, his father, and sister had just opened up a local bookstore called _Simply Originals_, where they only carried first editions of favorite bestsellers. And if his name wasn't any indication, he was a snob; a terrible on in fact.

So much so, that I chugged the second half of my beer so I could excuse myself to fill it back up. But as I made my way to the keg, I felt something magnetic. And my eyes were pulled towards the bonfire like sonar as they landed on _him_.

Damon was sitting on a log around the edge talking with some blonde that could hardly be considered attractive. They were roasting marshmallows and when Damon accidently lit one on fire, she laughed and placed her hand on his thigh. It was obvious the girl was into him; hell, her arousal was practically dripping down her legs, and instantly I felt angry.

"Who are we staring at?" Caroline interrupted just as my hand balled itself into a fist. I jumped at her question before I took a deep breath and sighed.

"No one," I answered dismissively before her eyes followed the direct path of mine and landed on Damon.

"Oh, he's cute," Caroline commented beside me. She then laced her arms over her chest and questioned, "But why are you just standing there? Go talk to him."

"It's not like that," I tried to reason.

"Sure it's not," she sarcastically responded.

"He was just the guy that helped me with my car this morning," I explained as my hand floated through the air.

"All the more reason to go over and thank him," she suggested with a quick flick of her brows.

"But then who's going to stand here and talk to you?" I tried to argue as an innocent smile slid across my lips.

But she snorted at my attempt and countered, "I'm a social butterfly and perfectly capable of finding someone to spend my time with. So you, Elena, will not be able to use me as an excuse."

"You're not an excuse," I started, but she'd already started walking away. Her back was to me, but that didn't stop her from glancing back and shooting me a conniving grin as she left.

I rolled my eyes because this was just like my friend. Both she and Bonnie always seemed to push me towards men. Bonnie, at least, followed my rules. She always brought the guy to me so that it never appeared like I was chasing after him, but Caroline chose to ignore my rules completely.

_Don't fold into Caroline, you'll be breaking your own rule_, I lectured myself. But as my eyes drifted back over to where Damon was seated, he appeared so bored that I found my feet involuntarily leading me towards him. I quickly assured myself that I wasn't going over to for my own benefit; I was going over to save him from the chatty blonde, that was all.

I reached the bonfire just as the blonde released a deafening cackle into the air. Her head titled back and her resemblance to a giant mouthed pelican was almost too much to handle. I giggled softly to myself because frankly I couldn't resist, as the blonde's eyes narrowed in on me.

There was enough heat behind them to match the bonfire against my back, but if this girl thought she could intimidate me, she had a big letdown coming. Because Damon was also staring at me now and the curiosity in his eyes was enough to give me any amount of strength necessary.

The blonde just opened her lips to speak something snarky, or at least that's what I assumed, when I focused my attention on Damon and declared, "I wanted to say thank you for helping me out earlier."

His eyes widened at my sincere tone. He appeared equally impressed as shocked when he replied, "That was unexpected."

I flicked my shoulders into the air and threw my hand onto my hip as I gushed, "What can I say; I'm a bag of surprises."

The blonde was still staring at me and if she was capable, I'm sure she would have released daggers straight into my heart. She was thoroughly pissed that I'd interrupted her moment, but after a second she finally pulled her eyes from me and whined, "Damon, the smoke is irritating my eyes, so I'm gonna go for a walk. Do you want to join me?"

She batted her eyelashes a few times to gain his attention, but his never left me as he brushed her off. "I'm good."

With a scoff, the female rolled her eyes and lifted herself from the log. With her arms crossed over her chest, she slammed her stilettos against the dirt and stomped off.

"Well," I began as I released a small laugh, "you practically had her drooling all over you and your marshmallows."

His eyes narrowed in my direction. "Is that jealousy I hear coming from your mouth, Elena Gilbert?" he questioned, emphasizing the B and T of my name, making them pop.

I was about to tell him how absurd his rationalization skills were when I realized there was a more important issue at hand. "How do you know my last name?"

He appeared amused with himself as a grin slid over his lips. "People tend to know everything about everyone in a small town," he answered easily.

I scoffed and muttered, "Figures."

"But, considering this_ is_ a small town, you can understand why I'm surprised to see you here all of a sudden," I challenged as I took a seat on a spare log beside him. "I grew up here and most people are dying to get out, not get in."

"I'm going to bypass the obvious fact that you're attracted to me from your observation, and skip right to your question," he started with another amused smirk on his lips. "I wasn't dying to get into this town. I was born here and sent away to boarding school. That's why you haven't seen me around."

"But why would you come back?" I asked; disgust trailing its way into my question.

He leaned forward a bit on his log, closing the much needed space I'd placed between us. "Well, why are _you_ back?" he countered.

I hated the fact that he'd answered my question with another question. It was one of my signature moves and it felt demeaning having it used against me. So, I threw a little attitude into my voice and answered, "You know why I'm back and it's just temporary. As soon as I'm finished with school, I plan on getting as far away from this town as possible."

At that, he rocked back on his log and rubbed the base of his chin between his thumb and index finger. "For being your hometown, you seem to really hate this place," he mused. "I wonder why that is."

It was easy to see he was fishing for answers, but I had no interest in making it easy for him. So I simply replied, "Well, nostalgia can be a bitch sometimes."

"Oh, so you're damaged," he assessed as his eyes narrowed in my direction; clearly interested in figuring out why. I was momentarily taken aback by how easily this guy saw through my vague lines. Because most men didn't even try, but with Damon he always seemed to look straight through them; as though they were simply a clear top coat of paint, and into their real meaning.

But thankfully he didn't push the issue any further and instead remarked, "And here I thought it was just because there weren't enough guys to keep you interested in this tiny town."

I huffed at his accusation because that simply wasn't me. I was picky when it came to guys; yes, but I wasn't Bonnie. "You talk about me like I'm some heartbreaker," I shot back.

"Well aren't you?" he pushed as his brows drifted towards the night sky. His face started to lean in again, as if he was eager to break through my personal boundaries.

"Come on," I exasperated as my eyes rolled beneath my lids. "Don't pretend like _you_ don't make breaking hearts look easy." My hands were whirling haphazardly through the air as I heatedly added, "What, with this whole bad boy image you've plastered onto yourself; I'm sure you've broken more than you can count."

"Don't pretend like you know me, I hate it when people do that!" he shot back in a high voice, clearly imitating my outburst this morning. He then chuckled at his own joke before slashing that stupid grin across his lips. "You know for someone who doesn't like to be judged at first sight, you sure do a lot of it yourself."

I acknowledged the fact that the guy was clever, but that didn't mean I had to give him the credit. So instead, I lowered my voice and imitated him, "You're deflecting."

"I'm just choosing not to respond to your comment," he teased.

I couldn't help but smile slightly because it appeared I'd met someone equally as skilled at deflection as I was. It was rare and I found the quality rather endearing. He noticed the smile immediately leaned in even closer, obviously intrigued by our back and forth. I noticed the lack of distance immediately, but pushed it aside and got back to the issue at hand.

With a devilish smirk gracing my lips, I challenged, "What? Are you nervous I can't handle your answer?"

The corner of _his_ lips edged slightly upward as he replied, "I'm fairly certain you could handle anything I throw at you."

My heart fluttered at bit at the compliment, but I refused to acknowledge it. "Then just answer my question," I urged.

"Fine," he responded with a sigh. He leaned back slightly as a shrug ripped over his shoulders. "I can't say I haven't broken a few hearts, but we all have a past. It doesn't mean that we can't change."

"Yeah, but sometimes the past has a way of catching back up with you," I muttered before I could help it. I resisted the urge to throw my hands over my mouth to keep from spilling anything else about myself, but it was too late. He'd already caught on.

"Is that what's happened with you?" he asked; all remnants of his previously smug demeanor had vanished leaving only a serious sincerity that was truly breathtaking to behold.

"Excuse me?" I spat out defensively because honestly this guy was just too quick for me. He seemed to catch every piece of information I let slip and place it into the appropriate spot of my mysterious puzzle.

It didn't make sense because the mystery was usually what kept guys around. They traditionally liked that about me, but Damon seemed genuinely interested in uncovering my enigmas. I'd never had someone so interested in figuring me out before. It was flattering and I hated the way my cheeks burned when I thought about his interest because that meant I was in dangerous territory.

He was insisting I break cardinal rule number one and that was something I most certainly couldn't afford to let happen. Deflection in the past had always been easy, but with someone like Damon, I could find myself in a shit load of trouble.

"Your past;" he clarified, stressing its importance, "is that why you've surrounded yourself in this icy shell?"

My finger was tapping nervously against my leg now and I could see the reflection of the fire in his blue irises. It was a reminder that he represented the hottest portion of a flame; the section capable of burning you the most.

And it was that image that had me spitting out defensively, "I don't know what you're talking about."

But he inched forward again, his hand stretching over to rest on the log beside my leg. He was only inches from my face and the look he was shooting me almost had my breath hitching in my throat. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," he reasoned softly. "C'mon, Elena, I answered honestly; now it's your turn."

His eyes were staring at me now and the effect was almost blinding. They pierced into me and clutched around my truth, yanking and pulling it out of the deeply hidden compartment I'd stored it. I tried to resist, internally grasping again for the upper hand that he'd successfully managed to strip me of over the course of our conversation.

I felt it clawing and scratching to make contact with something that would keep it contained, but his eyes were so intently focused on mine that I felt myself wavering. I couldn't believe this was happening, but just a few more seconds and he'd capably rip my truth, I'd so easily kept from everyone else, from my lips.

But then a log cracked in the fire, momentarily breaking Damon's line of impact. His eyes left mine for the briefest second, but it was all I needed to release myself from the hold his eyes previously held over me. He instantly turned back and tried to reclaim the upper hand, but I'd already started lifting myself from the log; desperately trying to keep my eyes from meeting his.

"I've gotta go," I declared as my body landed upright.

There was the briefest second where his eyes revealed just how disappointed he was, but it wasn't in his failed attempted; he appeared disappointed in me. It didn't make sense, but he didn't offer me much time to contemplate the look before the conceited grin appeared on his lips and he assured, "That's fine. I'll figure you out eventually."

"Good luck with that," I retorted as I turned on my heels and started to walk away.

"We've got a long summer ahead of us, and with the way we keep running into each other - I don't think it's going to be difficult," he reasoned and I could almost imagine his brows flipping up into the air. Funny how after only a few conversations, I already seemed to understand his physical reactions.

When I'd managed to take a decent amount of steps away, I finally released a breath of air and realized the situation I'd thrown myself into. Damon was most certainly right, and we still had a long summer ahead of us. And unfortunately for me, he seemed to be smashing right through my personal barriers. They'd been so successful in the past, but there was just something about Damon that had me feeling nervous, slightly off center, and certainly not my composed myself.

I knew the sensation was dangerous and I most certainly didn't like the effect he had on me, but as I slowed my pace and pondered the feeling, I honestly couldn't admit I hated it either.

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review!<strong>_

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	4. Chapter 4

**Author's notes at the end this time.**

_**Hope you like the chapter!**_

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><p>"<em>I love you, Stefan." The words came out naturally, like they were as simple to proclaim as breathing, as his fingertips glided their way across the satin skin of my cheek.<em>

"_I love you too," he replied, his lips curling towards his hazel eyes, before he closed the miniscule space between us and placed a soft kiss on my lips. _

_He pulled back slightly and rested his head on the down contents of my pillow as I grazed my foot along the fabric of his jeans. Our intertwined fingers rested between our chests and I'd never felt more content. With him in this close of proximity, I'd never felt safer._

_I closed my eyes to savor the feeling, but when I reopened them, the lighting of the room had changed. It no longer had a warm glow from the candles, but instead an icy blue permeated everything. The temperature had dropped and as I opened my mouth to question the change, Stefan was ripped from my grip._

_He flew from the bed and disappeared into the midnight wall as grass sprouted around my face. My fingers curled inward as they scraped about a mixture of dry mud and dirt. Panicked, my eyes searched my surroundings only to notice I'd appeared on the edge of the lake. Wickery Bridge was arched across the sheeted glass of water and a vehicle had just smashed through the safety barrier._

_Instinctively, I knew it was my parents and as it fell towards the dark liquid, I heaved myself from the ground and dove into the lake. The water was freezing and I could feel it seeping straight through my delicate layers of skin and into my veins, but I pushed it aside and kept swimming as the vehicle made contact and submerged._

_I was already gasping for air when I reached the car, but my mother's terrified face was clear through the passenger's side window, and all I wanted was to help her. I frantically beat my fist against the glass in an attempt to smash though and after the fifth try, the sheet cracked, creating a spider web pattern. I slammed my elbow against the hard surface again, this time resulting in the entire thing shattering and shooting random chunks of glass through the water._

_I felt elation pump through every underlying surface of my body at my victory just as the suction started. Water was being ripped through the empty window and crashing into the previously dry contents of the car. My arms flailed through the liquid and I tried to keep myself from getting sucked in, but was unsuccessful. My lungs were plagued from the lack of air as the suction pulled my body towards the vehicle. And as I slipped through the window and into darkness, I finally let out a deafening scream._

I shot upright in bed; covers flying through the air as I did. My hand was clutched over my heart, which was beating with the precision of a jackhammer, and I was gasping for breath. The top layer of my skin was covered in a fresh sheen of sweat and when I glanced at myself in the mirror, located directly across my room, I noticed my hair was matted to the left side of my face. I looked like shit, which was appropriate since I felt like absolute shit, and realized that this way by no means the way I wanted to start this particular day.

It was the anniversary of my parent's death, hence the devastatingly realistic dream, and it was going to be difficult enough to get through without waking up the way I had. I was supposed to wake up feeling refreshed and then slowly dwindle my way down to the emotional train wreck I'd inevitably become, not start out that way.

I cursed my subconscious for kicking my ass this morning and especially for bringing Stefan into my thoughts because I didn't want to think about my ex-boyfriend or the way he'd made me feel before that fateful day. Those were feelings he'd taken advantage of and smashed against concrete with a sledgehammer.

The delicious smell of pancakes slipped through my nostrils as I took a frustrated breath and ran my hands through my pathetic excuse for hair. I shook my head slowly because I knew Jenna was trying, and she'd obviously thought a batch of my mother's pancakes would bring me comfort today, but instead it just made my heart ache. That familiar darkness floated around the area and I rubbed it a few times before making my way over to the mirror.

My eyes were sunken in, dark craters dove along underneath, and I looked like I hadn't slept well in weeks. All in all, I looked exactly the way I should on a day such as this one. I contemplated crawling back under the confinement of my sheets, when my tummy let out a protesting growl. And with one last look in the mirror, I decided I was suitable enough to be seen by Jenna and made my way down the stairs.

There were voices coming from the living room, but it wasn't until I'd reached the bottom of the staircase that I realized why both masculine tones sounded familiar. I stopped dead in my tracks, as Ric and Damon turned their heads to take in my appearance.

This time, I mentally cursed this stupid day, not myself, because what the hell was Damon doing in my aunt's living room? He was never supposed to step foot in this house and it destroyed all of my efforts at keeping myself distanced from him.

I'd spent the past three days, locked in this house, helping Jenna apply calligraphy to all of her wedding invitations because I figured that this was my safe haven. And now Damon had stripped me of that too. First he'd tried to break through my protective barriers, but this time he'd successfully removed my safety house.

And besides, I was in a skimpy purple camisole and plaid pajama shorts. My hair was matted to the side of my freaking face and my eyes looked as empty as a skeleton's. Needless to say, I was fuming and he was the last person I needed to bump into this morning.

But if he'd been attempting to catch me off-guard, it wasn't registering on his expression. As a matter of fact, he looked as downright shocked as I felt. His mouth was hanging slightly open and his eyes were wide enough to separate his blue irises in a sea of white, when Ric made a coughing noise in the back of his throat.

"Elena," he started nervously as his hand pointed towards Damon. "I guess now is as good a time as any for you to meet my best man."

At that, it was time for my mouth to drop open and reflect Damon's because did Ric just say what I thought he'd said?

"This is Damon Salvatore," Ric introduced as his eyes tried their best to hit everywhere in the room besides my scanty attire.

Damon said nothing, and it was clear to see that Ric had no idea the two of us had met before. I didn't understand how Damon could possibly be Ric's best friend, especially considering the age difference, but I wasn't going to stick around and find out. Because Damon's expression went from pure shock to sad understanding in the blink of an eye and it was then I knew my truth was no longer an issue between us. I'm sure Ric had told him all about his poor niece whose parents died and I certainly wasn't in the mood to have this guy try and be my savior. Not on a day like today where I was as fragile as I was.

So, I threw my pointer finger into the air, closed my eyes, and shook my head. "No," I objected as my matted hair swiveled around my face. And then without muttering another word, I twisted around and headed back up the stairs. I knew it was rude, but frankly I didn't care. Jenna could explain to Ric later why I'd acted out.

And when she crept through my door a half hour later with a tray of pancakes in hand and an innocent expression on her face, I knew she understood why I'd done what I'd done. Well, at least partially.

Still, I felt the need to apologize. "I'm sorry about what happened downstairs, I just…"

But she shook her head and took a seat next to me on the bed. "It's fine. Today's a rough day on both of us and Ric, well, he just doesn't get it. But don't worry, they left and I made sure to give him a small scolding for inviting a guest on the way out."

Secretly I wished I could have seen Jenna in the art of scolding a grown man, but I hid it well and countered, "Jenna, you didn't have to do that."

But she simply winked her right eye and justified, "How else am I supposed to train him?"

"Good point," I replied as she slid the pancakes onto my lap. That was the thing about Jenna, although I knew she didn't necessarily agree with my stance on men, she always knew which comment to pick to stroke my man-hater side. Plus, I had to give it to her; the woman knew how to wear the pants in a relationship.

"Thanks for the pancakes," I said as I took a warm, fluffy bite. It was drenched in the perfect amount of sweet syrup and tasted delicious as it fell onto my tongue. I savored the taste a moment, passing it back and forth between both sides of teeth before swallowing.

"Of course, I thought they might cheer you up," Jenna stated enthusiastically; satisfied with her work. "But just so you know, the boys will be gone for most of the day, so you're safe to leave the room. I won't judge you for tears and if we need to, I can whip out a carton of Ben and Jerry's from the freezer. I think I even have Dublin Mudslide; you're favorite."

"Oh," I gasped as soon as I managed to swallow another bite of pancake. "Jenna, that's really nice and the offers tempting, but I was just gonna head over to Bonnie's and spend the day there."

"Sure, no problem. I have a ton of wedding crap to do anyway," she explained with a forced level of understanding. But I could see through her completely and saw she was disappointed.

Everyone knew I preferred spending this anniversary with Bonnie. She was the only person who didn't expect me to sit there and talk about my feelings all day. She was still supportive in her own way, which involved mass consumptions of alcohol to dull my painful memories, but she never forced me to talk about anything I didn't feel like talking about. Actually, she preferred it, really.

And as much as I wanted to spend today throwing back shots of Jim, Jack, Johnnie, and Jose', my conscious had me throwing out, "You sure it's okay?"

But in typical Jenna fashion, she adhered a friendly smile to her lips and assured, "Of course, you do what you gotta do. And I'll leave a fresh glass of water and a few aspirin on your nightstand for whenever you get home tonight."

I smiled and considered how lucky I was to have Jenna for my aunt because, really, how many aunt's left a hangover kit on the side of their niece's bed? My guess was – not that many. But seeing as how it was the only night a year I didn't enforce my two drink limit; the only night I allowed myself to binge drink for reasons that are fairly obvious, it was understanding why she would. Jenna knew my habits, she _understood_ my habits, and for that I was thankful.

So, I leaned over my tray of pancakes, wrapped my arms around her, and whispered a heartfelt, "Thank you."

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><p>Just liked I preferred, my day was been spent at Bonnie's, where luckily, no talk of my parents occurred. She kept me occupied with a marathon of John Hughes movies, occasional shots, and yes, even a tub of Dublin Mudslide ice cream. There had been no sappy tears and overall, she'd done a fabulous job of keeping my mind from drifting to the one place I didn't want it to.<p>

Now, we found ourselves at Jerry's Pub, where the drinking section of my day went into full effect. Caroline had asked to join us and after some serious contemplation, I'd agreed under the regulation that she didn't bring up my parents or anything involving around them or what day it was. And so far, she'd stuck by my guidelines, making for a very tolerable evening.

"Two more shots for my ladies, Ben," Bonnie called across the bar to the bartender. She wasn't drinking with us tonight since she was the designated driver, but that hadn't stopped her from making sure Caroline and I had a steady stream of alcohol pouring down the backs of our throats.

Caroline and I giggled, which was rather miraculous for me, considering the day, and when Ben placed the two shots of Soco and lime onto the bar, we lifted them into the air.

"This time, we're cheersing the fact that this bar is here," Caroline shouted, resulting in a round of hoots and hollers from a section of older gentleman at the end of the bar.

Bonnie chuckled and rolled her eyes, when I clinked my shot glass against the blonde's and agreed, "Yes, thank you to Jerry; whoever the hell Jerry is."

We drank our shots and as the liquid passed over my tongue and down into my stomach, I could already feel its magical warmth take effect. I couldn't tell you how many shots I'd taken through the course of the day, although I had to guess it was easily in the double digits, but I knew I'd consumed enough to be feeling good; really good. I wasn't drunk and my vision was still moderately in focus, but I was definitely in that perfect buzzed state.

Caroline, who was obviously a bit more intoxicated than myself, slammed her empty shot glass onto the bar and suggested, "Now that we're nice and tipsy, can we please go to Matt Donovan's party?"

My head jerked to stare at the blonde as Bonnie's did the same and she questioned, "Why the hell would you want to go to your ex-boyfriend's party?"

"Because he asked me to come," Caroline answered innocently.

I shook my head back and forth, feeling my brain rub up against the side of my skull as I did, and speculated, "I don't think that's a great idea, Care."

"When did you and Matt start talking again?" Bonnie asked; an incredulous expression on her face.

"You can wipe the perplexed looks off your faces guys," Caroline scoffed with a roll of her eyes. "I saw him at the bonfire and he said he'd been doing a lot of thinking. He knows he didn't treat me well…"

"That's an understatement and a half," I muttered under my breath, resulting in a sideways glare from my optimistic friend before she continued on.

"And he wants to give us another shot," she declared with a pleased smile.

I felt my jaw sag slightly at her information because clearly Caroline wasn't remembering the same Matt I was. The Matt I remembered had cheated on my best friend, leaving her emotionally unstable for months and under no circumstances deserved a second chance with her again.

But Bonnie was the one to speak an opposition first. "You're an idiot," she assessed without a tone of remorse following the statement.

I sighed at my friend's blunt delivery and said, "What Bonnie's trying to say is, Matt hurt you, Caroline, really bad. He doesn't deserve a second chance and you shouldn't give him one."

Caroline nervously twirled a ribbon of her hair around her index finger and explained, "But we've been talking and it really seems like he's changed."

"Again, you're an idiot," Bonnie muttered as she took a sip of her diet coke.

"Again," I added with a sideways look at my ebony friend, "What Bonnie's trying to say is, guys like Matt don't change. I know you want him to, but it's never going to happen."

"How would you know?" she asked defensively. "You haven't talked to him since you've been back."

"True, but I know who he used to be," I rationalized. "Don't buy into the crap he's feeding you now because he's just going to hurt you again."

"You don't know that," Caroline snarkily replied.

"Yes, I do," I countered softly. I could see my friend's armor being set into place and reasoned, "Care, I know you're optimistic about guys and the whole relationship bit, but can't you see that Bonnie and I are just trying to protect you?"

But she shook her head through the air and heatedly replied, "No. What I see is the two of you trying to force your opinions on me. I expected it from you," she accused with a heated glance towards Bonnie, "because you've never trusted men. But not from you, Elena."

I narrowed my eyes in her direction and claimed, "That's not fair." I knew my friend was just upset because I hadn't sided with her on the whole Matt ordeal, but I didn't like the fact that she was attacking me because of it.

"What's not fair is you trying to pull me over to the dark side with you," she countered. "Look, I've humored this whole converted opinion of yours when it came to guys because Stefan hurt you."

"He didn't just hurt me, Caroline, he destroyed me," I shouted back at her. "He got drunk and smashed his car into the side of my parents', ultimately killing them. I think that accounts for a little more than hurt!"

"Fine, he destroyed you, and I've sat back and watched you let Bonnie influence your stance on relationships because of it," she argued; all of the remorse I was accustomed to receiving from her gone. "But here's a tip from me, Stefan was one guy, he doesn't account for every other member of his species. And just because he let you down doesn't mean the rest of them will follow in his footsteps."

My mouth was hanging open and I'd never been more offended in my life. Caroline was supposed to be the friend that was there for me when I needed her, the one who supported me; not the one that threw my issues across the ground and threatened to run them over with a bus if I didn't acknowledge them.

I was angry with her, for choosing today of all days to confront me and my problems, and as a result, my eyes hazed over with traitorous liquid.

She saw it immediately, and her expression softened at the sight. "I'm sorry to bring it up. I know I promised I wouldn't talk about it today."

She then tried to slide her arm around my back and offer me the support she'd just denied. But I was pissed and beyond consolable, especially from someone like her. So I swatted her arm away and muttered, "Whatever."

"Fine, whatever," she scoffed, clearly agitated with my dismissal, before she hopped off of her bar stool and stomped out of the pub's front doors.

I heard Bonnie let out a frustrated sigh from two seats away, before she twisted her head in my direction and said, "Considering the turn of events, I'm going to take Caroline to the party. I don't think it's a great idea having the two of you around each other right now, but I'll be right back after I drop her off. Unless, you'd rather go to the party."

I thought about the idea of standing in a crowded house with all of my high school friends as they wrapped their arms around me and threw false sincerity into their, _I'm so sorry's_. My nose scrunched up at the revolting image and I answered, "I'll just wait here."

"You sure you're going to be okay," Bonnie asked; a rare form of concern fluttering across her caramel irises.

"I have alcohol and Ben," I said. "I'll be fine."

"Okay then, I'll be back before you know it," she informed before she swiveled on her black pumps and chased after Caroline.

I called out, "Ben, another shot!" and wondered how this day had ended up like it had. I was thoroughly pissed and felt slightly betrayed by Caroline's accusations because seriously, I wasn't that terrible. I always thought I'd handled the situation of my parent's death relatively well.

I mean, I'd just put up a few barriers to protect my heart. I hadn't become the girl that threw her middle finger into the air, cursing everything and everyone in her path. I hadn't fallen onto the dark path of drugs or alcoholism to deal with my pain. I didn't usually scream at my friends and I certainly wasn't someone that the average person would view as emotionally damaged.

I'd simply buried my pain, hid it well from the common eye. So why was it such an issue that I had a problem trusting men? Considering my past and what had happened, I thought my stance on the opposite sex was completely justified.

"Here you go, Elena," Ben stated as he set the shot of whatever in front of my clenched fists.

"Thanks," I muttered under my breath before lifting the shot to my lips and throwing it down the back of my throat. The warmth it supplied hit me instantly, melting my icy insides and instead replacing them with the dreaded memories of nostalgia.

I thought about Stefan and the way I'd loved him; completely and naturally, no second guessing whatsoever because I hadn't been tainted by painful memories. How comfortable I'd felt in his presence and how just a simple touch from him resulted in the sensation that I was alive; complete and utterly alive. Our tangled bodies lying together on my bed; our hands incapable of keeping themselves from drifting to each other's. The way my heart fluttered when I gazed into his topaz gems, the reflection of my smile always present within them.

That was the way I'd felt the last moment I saw him, the moment before everything was ripped from me. I'd tried to talk him into staying over because I knew he'd had too much to drink, but he'd insisted he was fine. Foolishly, I'd let him go and only a half hour later I'd heard him over my cell phone line. His voice was shaky, weak, as he explained the accident. He'd had to stop halfway through when his breath hitched and he spat out the words, "I'm so sorry," followed by the statement concerning my parents and their end that sent me tumbling to the floor.

I could hear him coming through the other end of my cell phone, but I'd dropped it in the process of falling and couldn't possibly remove my hands from around my stomach to pick it back up. Painful sobs ripped through me as I tried to keep myself from unraveling, but ultimately I'd been unsuccessful.

Because death is a difficult thing to comprehend in the first place, but death by the hands of someone you love is even more unfathomable. I loved Stefan, almost as much as my parents, but he'd stripped me of every bit of trust I'd held for him. And I knew he hadn't meant to do what he had, but that didn't undo the accident and that didn't bring my parents back.

He was rotting in some prison now under the charge of first degree vehicular manslaughter and I'd never been able to bring myself to visit him. I had no idea what I'd say to him if I did because a large part of me hated him. He'd taken my love and abused it, not intentionally, but still, he'd betrayed me in the most awful way. And it's difficult to respect someone that you loved as much as I loved him after they've taken away the only thing you loved more. Once that happens, there's really no coming back. And every day I'm reminded of the way I'd given myself over to him only to have it thrown back in my face.

So yes, I was once a type A Caroline romantic type, firmly believing in everything fairytales assured you could come true. But then I'd been given a shot of reality and grew up, accepted that only villains walked this earth, and that happy endings didn't exist. I mean, I'd allowed myself to be happy once, but look at where that happiness left me. From my experience, happy endings were simply stories that hadn't ended yet.

I pushed back a wave of stupid tears and lifted my pointer finger into the air. "Another shot, Ben. And make it a double."

I then let out a sigh and lowered my chin to rest on my hand as someone took the seat beside me. I knew who it was, I could sense him even in my clouded state, and was _not_ thrilled.

"It's official, you're stalking me," I accused as Ben set the new shot onto the bar.

I threw it back with ease as Damon countered, "In my defense, my roommate wanted to go to a party at some kid Matt's house and I objected. Seeing as how this is the only bar in town, it's where I wound up."

"Well-crafted lie," I offered as I nodded my head in appreciation. And without looking in Damon's direction, I ordered, "Two more shots."

I could feel Damon's eyes boring a hole straight through the side of my face as he stressed, "It's not a lie."

Ben set the shots in front of us. I heard Damon thank the bartender as I lifted the glass and shot it back. "Sure it's not."

I then finally turned my attention to Damon just as he was shooting back his own shot and asked accusingly, "Did Alaric send you here to look after me?"

Damon chuckled at my paranoia and set his empty glass back onto the bar as he reasoned. "I told you, I came here on my own, with no pretense of running into you. I honestly had no idea you'd be here."

I studied his expression for any signs that he was lying, but came up empty handed. And after a moment, I realized that perhaps he was telling the truth. Fate kept throwing this guy my way with a persistence that marveled Alexander the Great and maybe this was just another coincidental run in.

So I sighed and rolled my eyes as I gave in. "Fine, I believe you."

"Good," he declared with an absurd degree of enthusiasm, "but while we're on the subject of Ric, I feel the need to tell you, the man's scared shitless of you."

The statement had come from him with such nonchalance that I couldn't hold back the laugh. It burst between my teeth and into the air before I managed to recompose myself. It was then I turned on Damon, lowered my lids, and playfully threatened, "And he has good reason to be, I'm a man-hater didn't you know?"

"I kind of picked up on that, yeah," he retorted with a roll of his eyes. "But he's going to be your uncle in law, so maybe you could cut him a little slack. He's a good guy once you get to know him."

It was then my attitude changed slightly because I hated the fact that Damon now knew all about my family drama. I was supposed to remain a mystery to him, but with the sudden revelation of him and Ric's friendship, that seemed impossible. This new kink was mildly irritating, but I figured that if he knew about my personal life, I deserved to know about his. So I narrowed my eyes and asked, "How do you know him exactly?"

Damon, who had ordered a local beer on tap, lifted his mug to his lips and took a sip. As he set it back down, he turned his eyes on me and answered, "He was my professor in college. Ric was only a few years older than myself and we shared a lot of interests. One thing led to another, and we just sort of became friends."

I nodded at his information, finding it considerably ordinary and believable, as Ben walked past us. I threw my hand out to him and ordered, "Two more shots."

Ben acknowledged me with a nod of his head and I smiled at the promise of more alcohol. But then Damon's hand extended and latched onto my forearm, lowering it down to the wood, as he asked, "Don't you think you've had enough?"

Normally, I would have shot back a snarky response about minding his own business, but when I looked into his eyes, they showed nothing but concern. Plus, with the alcohol swimming through my brain, I didn't really have the mental stamina to stick with my typical conversational skills. So I held back my typical quip and instead replied, "On any other day, yes, but not today. There's not enough shots that could cure today."

The left edge of his lips lifted into a sad smile as he said softly, "I know this is probably the last thing you want to talk about, but Ric told me about the accident."

I sighed, knowing this moment was inevitable. Of course Damon would bring it up, because it was my weak point. It was his in, his way to breaking through my rough exterior, figuring out the real me and the reasons behind why I was so damaged. He could play his part as my savior, fixing and mending me back into a girl that trusted again. Use me for what I was able to offer before he ultimately got tired of me and threw me back to the wolves.

I wasn't interested in any of that, but I was curious about one thing. "How much did he tell you?"

"Enough," Damon answered sincerely.

"Oh, I doubt that," I responded cheekily, feeling relief sweeping its way through me. Because if Ric had told him the entire story, Damon's answer, without a doubt, would have been _everything_.

To my surprise, he didn't take the bait of my temptation and instead let out a sigh. "Well, I know the basics of what happened to your parents and I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

He was turned in my direction now and as I studied his expression, I could tell he truly was sincere about his apology. "You really mean that don't you?" I asked, slightly surprised.

He knitted his brows at my question, appeared somewhat offended, and responded, "Of course, why wouldn't I?"

"Because when most people say it to me, they're just words," I explained. My eyes were incapable of pulling themselves from his as I added, "They don't ever mean anything."

Damon's shoulders shrugged slightly as he justified, "We'll I meant them because I understand how you feel."

"How could you possibly understand how I feel?" I asked accusingly, the offensive heat trailing through my voice as it left my lips.

There was a flash of sadness across his blue irises before he lowered them to the floor and proclaimed softly, "Because I lost my parents too."

Words failed to produce themselves in my throat because it felt like he'd just punched me in the gut. That was certainly the last statement I'd ever expected to come from his lips and for the briefest moment, I felt comforted. It was a selfish sensation, but for the first time since my parents accident, I'd found someone who understood what I was going through.

For so long, I'd been bearing this experience on my own, but now fate had delivered me someone who recognized the trauma of losing their parents so early in life. I felt relieved, but at the same time sympathetic because I knew what he obviously went through. And it was that thought that had me spilling out, "I'm sorry," with the same sincerity he previously had.

But unlike me, he seemed unphased by my empathy, like he'd experienced it a million times before. I momentarily considered the thought that maybe it was because he was more willing to accept it from others that I was as he threw his shoulders into the motion of a shrug and dismissed, "It's alright, it happened a while ago."

Then he flipped his eyebrows playfully towards the ceiling and added, "But I'll tell you the story some other time. Tonight's about you and if you want to get drunk, I'm more than happy to join you."

His signature smirk appeared on his lips, but this time I had no urge to whack it off of his face. It was like I was seeing him in a completely different light and the vision was truly spectacular. My walls were no longer up because surely if he'd been through the same thing as me, he'd have no motive to hurt me further.

I studied the features of his face: following the creases that came from a familiar history of pain, hovering over the defining arches of his eyebrows that held so much life, before finally settling onto his eyes. They were vivid and bright, the exact blue that came with the calming thought of the ocean. I could feel them penetrating into me, never wavering from the heavy contact of mine.

And I'm sure alcohol played a huge factor, but suddenly I could feel the waves rolling off of him; crashing into my base and receding, aching for me to follow. Each wave dragged me just a little bit closer until I finally decided to give in.

It was what he wanted after all, and I no longer felt the fear of denying it from him nor myself.

So I lifted my lips into a smile, feeling the familiar pull on the edges, and declared, "Let's get drunk, but first I just want to try something."

I then closed my eyes and breached his personal space, eliminating all boundaries between us, when I felt his hands make contact with my shoulders. They pressed slightly against my skin, holding me in place before softly pushing me backwards.

It was then my eyes shot open and I could feel the heat of embarrassment spread across my cheeks as I exclaimed, "What the hell, Damon? I thought this was what you wanted."

His features were contorted in a way that revealed how uncomfortable he was. It was clear to see he was struggling, but I couldn't read if it was because he actually wanted to kiss me or because he wasn't sure how to let me down easily. My mind was reeling, flipping through all of his previous signs that I might have possibly misread, and I was feeling more mortified by the second.

His eyes spoke apologies that his lips were apparently incapable of producing. And after a long moment, he finally sighed and slipped his hands down my shoulders and along my arms. I could feel the heat of his skin through the thin cotton fabric as he began, "Elena, I…"

"Elena!" Bonnie exclaimed as the door of Jerry's Pub swung open. "Are we drinking or what?"

My eyes broke from Damon's to take in my best friend and it was then I realized that this entire incident had been a mistake. I'd let my guard down for one second, given him what I thought he wanted, and already Damon had disappointed me. I felt humiliated, my cheeks burned with anger, both towards myself and him, and I no longer wanted any part of it. All I wanted was to get the hell away from him, this bar, and just bury myself underneath of my sheets, ending this god-awful day once and for all.

So I shook my head and replied, "No, I'm ready to go. I'll meet you at the car," ignoring Bonnie's flabbergasted expression.

I then dug through my clutch and pulled out a stack of twenties, figured five were enough to cover the damage of the night, and threw them onto the wood of the bar. Just as I was about to turn around, Damon's hand wrapped around my arm and he forced me to look at him.

"Will you just let me explain?" he asked impatiently. There was a pleading consistency in his eyes that would have earlier had me wavering, but not now; not after feeling the reality sting of his rejection.

"There's no need," I dismissed, making sure the acid dripped through my words, and added, "Goodnight, Damon.," before I snapped my arm out of his grasp and briskly walked out the front door.

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><p><strong>AN: Well, this chapter was a bit of a downer, but I promise to return to the regular tone in the next one. Also, I just wanted to clarify that Stefan and Damon have no relation in this story and Elena doesn't have a brother. Sorry to those of you who like Jeremy.**

_**Please Read and Review! :)**_

_Follow me on Tumblr (morvamp)_


	5. Chapter 5

**I know I gave some of you spoilers about this chapter, but some of them won't be true. I didn't get nearly as far as I thought I was going to because the bickering just wouldn't stop. So, the spoilers that I didn't write this chapter will be included in the next.**

_**Hope you like it. :)**_

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><p>The ringing of my cell sounded in my ears, shooting annoying buzzes and vibrations my way as it bounced along the table and successfully pulled me from my deep slumber.<p>

When my eyes opened, I groaned at the light breaking through my curtains and shielded myself with my forearm. My head felt like it'd been bashed in with a baseball bat and my throat felt dry, obvious signs from my alcoholic behaviors the night before. Honestly, I felt wretched and before I clicked answer on my cell, I spared myself a quick sip of the water my aunt had placed on the nightstand. It tasted cool, despite being room temperature, and refreshing as it coated my dry throat, offering me a bit of much needed relief.

"Hello," I questioned groggily into the microphone of my cell.

"Good morning sunshine," Caroline responded enthusiastically; all recollection of our argument the night before seemingly forgotten.

"Caroline?" I asked in disbelief.

I heard her sigh from her end of the phone and start, "Yes, I'm a horrible friend and I'm sorry about last night."

It was my turn to sigh before I responded sympathetically, "No, you had every right to say what you did, perhaps just not so bluntly. It's true; I've changed, but just because I have doesn't mean that I should force you to change with me."

"No," she adamantly dismissed before admitting, "Elena, you were right."

I froze, completely shocked at the words that had just come out of her mouth and knitted my brows together. "I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting that."

"Either was I," she admitted with a snort, "but when Bonnie dropped me off at Matt's house last night he had his tongue already stuck down another girl's throat."

"Asshole! Care, I'm sorry," I sympathized as my hand made its way through my strands of hair. I'll admit, I wanted to hear that I was right, but not at the expense of my best friend's happiness.

"It's completely alright," she replied cheerfully, causing my mouth to sag slightly ajar. "Because otherwise I wouldn't have met someone else."

"I am talking to you, correct, not Bonnie?" I questioned skeptically because Caroline wasn't the type to jump from one boy to the next. She was more of the type that sat in her bedroom and bawled her eyes out for weeks after an incident like last night's.

"Yes," she exclaimed. "But, Elena, he's amazing and sweet and nothing like Matt. He found me crying on the stairwell and threatened to beat up whoever the hell had me in tears."

"Sounds like you found yourself a winner," I muttered playfully.

"Oh, shut it and just let me be happy alright," she pleaded through giggles. "Because I'm seeing him again tonight and I'm really excited."

I could almost envision the sight of her jumping spastically on top of her bed and as a result, I threw as much cheer into my voice as I could muster up and teased, "Woo hoo! This is me being excited."

"That'll work," she accepted after another round of giggles. "But hey, I've gotta go. Just, before I do, are you alright – after last night, I mean?"

I contemplated that question for a minute. My mind drifted over the now-settled argument with Caroline and straight to my humiliating run in with Damon. I sagged as I once again felt the sting that came with his rejection and lied, "I'm fine, just a bit hungover. Nothing that a little aspirin won't cure."

"You sure?" she asked, skepticism lacing her voice.

_No, I'm not sure._ "I'm positive," I assured.

"Alright, well I _am_ sorry about verbally abusing you last night," she apologized again with sincerity. "And I'll call you with details after my date."

"Can't wait," I squealed into the phone, solely for her benefit, before disconnecting the line.

I then let my head fall back against the soft contents of my pillow. It felt like my own little slice of heaven as it molded around my skull, offering my brain the much needed support it needed after last night.

It was true; I physically felt like crap, I mean who wouldn't after a night like I had? I couldn't even remember the amount of shots I'd consumed throughout the day. But I was also mentally exhausted. I'd made a complete ass out of myself, and embarrassment over my actions swirled through me like a twister.

I groaned remembering the way I'd thrown myself at Damon, like I was some horny mutt desperate to hump his leg, and the way he'd reacted. It was impossible to deny how much his rejection had stung and as I rolled over and swallowed the aspirin on my nightstand, I reminded myself that these side effects, both mentally and physically, were a main reason why drinking myself into oblivion was never a smart option.

Still, the damage had been done, and the best I could hope for was a few days before bumping into Damon again. Maybe then the situation would boil over smoothly.

To my dismay, the doorbell rang, much too loudly for my taste and I waited for either Jenna or Rick to answer it. When it rang a second time, I threw the covers off and threw open my door.

"Jenna? Ric?" I called out in hopes of a response so I could return to the comfort of my bed.

Unluckily, no one returned my call and as I made my way down the stairs, I ran my hand a few times through my disheveled mess of hair. There was a post-it from Jenna on the inside of the front door explaining she and Ric had gone to meet with their venue manager. And after quickly scanning the note, I threw open the door only to feel the blood completely drain from my face.

"Damon," I breathed out in shock, completely aware of the way I must look and hating that he was present to see it. "What are you doing here?"

His eyes went wide and lit up like the Christmas lights in Times Square as he took in my attire. "Obviously, I came to get another peak of you in those PJs."

The humiliation of this moment churned in the base of my stomach along with my embarrassment from last night, and without speaking another word, I started to shut the door. But his hand latched out and held the thing open as he explained, "Wait, wait, alright, I came because you wouldn't let me explain why I pushed you away last night."

I recoiled at the memory and reasoned, "It's really not necessary."

He inched his face forward. There was a pleaded edge to the rims of his blue irises as he stressed, "That's what you said last night, but it is."

I could still feel the thousand tiny needle pricks against my heart at his rejection and hated that I felt it this powerfully. The last thing I needed was an explanation that would increase that ache, so I shook my head dejectedly and refuted, "Really, it's not. I had too much to drink and…"

Damon huffed, his hand left the door and whipped through the air as he urged, "Would you just stop for a second and listen to me."

There was heat behind his plea and as a result, my arms crossed over my chest and I shot back, "What makes you think I have any interest in listening to what you have to say?"

"Well, because you tried to kiss me," he answered smugly.

"I blame that entirely on alcohol," I refuted.

The conceited smirk left his lips and his expression fell as he jumped into explaining. "I didn't do it because I didn't want to. I did. But I didn't want to take advantage of you. You were drunk and upset about your parents and the last thing you needed was me all over you."

A little voice in the back of my head screamed, _that was exactly what I needed, someone to be there for me, like I thought you were going to_. But the more rational side of my brain realized what he was saying and responsively my heart seemed to fold in on itself.

"So," he continued as his brows knitted together, "even though most would view my actions as amicable, I'm here to apologize."

"Apologize?" I asked in disbelief because it was the second time this morning someone was apologizing to me when it was supposed to be the other way around. "Why would you possibly want to apologize to me? I was the one that acted like a complete drunken idiot, not you."

"True," he agreed, his confidence stretching back over his expression, "but I'm also here to tempt you into accepting my offer of making it up to you."

My eyes narrowed skeptically, but my curiosity had me spitting out, "I'm listening."

"Spend the day with me," he insisted, as though it was the simplest of requests.

The idea was tempting, but then my heart sent me a reminder of the sting it endured last night at his rejection. It had been just a simple rejection, before I even knew him, and how could I possibly prepare myself for another letdown in the future after I did.

"Damon, it's not that I don't want to," I started off, totally prepared to spit out a lie about false plans I already had. But instead, something else happened - a portion of the truth came out. "It's just; I shouldn't be getting involved with anyone right now."

"That's fine," he responded with a shrug, "because after your breakdown last night, I really have no interest in getting involved with you either." And as he cracked a grin in my direction, he added, "But I promise you won't regret being my friend."

My foot tapped nervously against the ground at what he was insisting. I could feel my control slipping away and as a means of regaining the upper hand, I asked, "What happened to you coming here and apologizing?"

"Oh yeah, I'm sorry for pushing you away last night," he rushed out, with a brief amused roll of his eyes. They then redirected themselves on me as he urged, "But really, I want you to get to know me, so I'm offering up a day with yours truly, where you will personally accompany me to a few places and in the process, I'll answer any question you want to ask."

His hands had slipped into his pockets and he sported a crooked smile on his lips. His eyes were glowing with hope and despite the midnight black of his t-shirt and dark wash of his jeans, he looked almost boyish, non-threatening. A portion of me wanted to see past his appeal, but the other part of me was incapable of resisting the bait.

Because as much as I wanted to deny it, the guy was attractive and he was practically offering his inner-most secrets to me on a silver platter. I wasn't sure any girl could resist that offer.

So, I questioned skeptically, "No deflecting?"

"Deflection is not part of the agenda," he specified. "And I promise not to ask you any questions about yourself."

"So today is all about you?" I asked with a smile on my lips. Secretly I loved the sound of getting to know him without any reciprocation on my end. But for the sake of keeping him on his toes, I teased, "Seems rather selfish don't you think?"

"I like to see it as extremely charming," he corrected, with a slight movement of his brows that emphasized how correct his statement was.

I sighed as my heart performed a tiny back flip in my chest. He was just so damn appealing that it was incapable of resisting his offer, but still, I was confused about why the guy kept trying. I hadn't exactly been nice to him during our past run ins; actually, I'd been a downright bitch. And a part of me wondered if my only appeal to this guy was the chase. Maybe he only wanted me because I'd been the first girl to deny him; it certainly seemed logical.

The fear of that being the case seeped its way through my chest as I finally asked, "Why is so important that I get to know you?"

If my vulnerability had been present in my eyes, he chose to ignore it, because he kept the previously light atmosphere from before and asked, "Are you testing my promise now?"

I couldn't resist the smile that spread over my lips as I mused, "Perhaps."

He chuckled at my response before his hands slipped from the confinements of his pockets. "Well, there's the obvious reason," he declared as his hands scanned their way from my head to my toes.

I considered the way I looked now and had to laugh at the fact that he chose this as a reason. I'm sure my eyes were sunken in and black bags rested underneath because that was certainly the way I felt.

But before I had a chance to refute his first reason, the expression on his face changed to a serious nature and he offered up his second, "And also because I know how it is after you lose someone. You disconnect yourself and it's hard finding your way back."

I inhaled slightly, feeling the familiar comfort from the night before enter my mouth as I did. Because this reason was more than just physical appeal, it was an emotional understanding. He knew what I'd been through, hell, he'd been through the same thing, but unlike me he was in a much better place than I was. He'd somehow trudged through his initial pain and if I wasn't mistaken, I'd say he was offering that up to me.

"So, you're doing this to help me?" I questioned, wishing my voice had held just the slightest amount of flippancy.

"Now who's sounding selfish?" he challenged with a devilish smirk, before he shrugged his shoulders and added, "But, yeah."

The warning light was blinking across my vision, desperately trying to call attention to itself, while the rational section of my mind was winding, trying to formulate reasons why I shouldn't accept his offer. He was dangerous and still had the capability of sucking me in and spitting me back out after all of this, but as my eyes lifted up to meet his, I knew he had me. Because behind that mesmerizing blue was the faintest hint of his past and it was impossible to deny that we shared something. Something more powerful than attraction or sexual appeal, but a past, an understanding of the other.

So, I gave in, only distantly understanding what I was ultimately throwing myself into, as I smiled and proclaimed, "Well then, how can I refuse."

He mimicked back my smile, not some conceited smirk at his victory, but an actual smile and the sight had my legs wobbling slightly beneath me. "But I need to hop in the shower before we go anywhere."

"Fine, I can wait," he replied as I opened the door and let him in. Damon sauntered his way into the living room, brushed a few pictures of flower choices to the side, and took a seat on the couch. The wedding mess apparently wasn't an issue for him, and I remembered that of course it wasn't. This wasn't his first time here, probably nowhere close. As a matter of fact, he'd probably contributed more to my aunt's wedding than I had.

"Well, aren't you going to get in the shower?" Damon asked after his head turned back to glance in my direction. I was still standing in the doorway trying to wrap my mind around personally letting this man into my house. "We have a busy day and not much time to waste," he added.

"I'm going," I answered. "Are you gonna be fine down here?"

"Sure, I'll just flip through a few of these bridal magazines while I wait." He then grabbed the stack on the coffee table and threw them beside him before picking up the top one and flipping open the cover. I gawked at him for a minute, wondering how it was possible for a twenty something guy to still maintain his man card while reading bridal magazines, before twisting around and heading up the stairs.

Twenty minutes later, I'd successfully showered, dried my hair, and threw on a suitable outfit. After some serious contemplation, I removed my heels and replaced them with an old comfortable pair of chucks. It'd been years since I'd worn them, but I didn't want to come off like I was trying too hard and plus, they matched the simplicity of my sage t-shirt and jeans better anyway.

I then made my way down the stairs to see Damon with his feet propped up on the coffee table and a batch of white ribbon in his hand.

"What? The bridal magazines weren't entertaining enough for you?" I mocked as my foot hit the wood of the first floor.

Damon turned back to look at me. A pleased expression appeared on his face as he took in my attire and retorted, "Nah, they were all about finding the right dress for my body shape. Oddly enough, my shape wasn't listed."

I giggled as he threw the ribbon back to its proper spot on top of the coffee table and lifted himself from the couch. "You surprised me," he proclaimed.

"I surprised you?" I asked, taking an instinctive step back as he approached me.

His brows lifted toward his dark hair before he explained, "I expected to be bored out of my mind down here for at least another half hour while you got ready."

I smiled, holding back my quip about judging me solely on appearances, and threw my hand onto my hip. "What can I say; it doesn't take much to make me look presentable."

"It certainly doesn't," he stated softly, his eyes lingering on my face a moment longer than necessary, before he asked, "Ready to go?"

He maneuvered past me, over to the door, when I turned around and questioned, "Where are we going exactly?"

He stopped for a second and with his back turned to me, he held his pointer finger into the air. "That, my dear, is a surprise."

"You're not dragging me along to do your laundry or anything; are you?" I groaned as my feet finally lifted from the ground and started in his direction.

I'd just made it to his side, when his hand froze on the nob. I waited for him to open the door, but instead he inched his face towards mine, close enough that I could feel his breath along the skin of my neck. "Would it be so terrible if I did?" he breathed out, resulting in tingles shooting straight down my spine.

I exhaled slowly, pleading with my body to lose the sensation it was currently experiencing, as I contemplated his question. And, after a second, I finally admitted, "Yeah, a little."

His head snapped back and a smirk plastered itself on his face. He then opened the door and said, "Well rest assured that we're not running errands."

We breached the doorframe and stepped out into the summer air. The humid consistency attacked my skin and instantly I regretted deciding against sporting my light pink camisole. It would have been a wiser choice, but had the tendency of giving viewers a peak at my breast when I leaned the right angle; certainly not something I wanted around Damon.

"So, you're really not gonna tell me where were going?" I questioned in mild irritation as we stepped in unison down the steps of my front porch.

"The suspense is part of the appeal," he countered cheerfully. "Just relax and enjoy the ride."

It was then my eyes honed in on what we were approaching and I couldn't believe I hadn't considered this before. Damon's light blue crotch rocket of a motorcycle was parked at the end of my driveway with two helmets placed on its seat. Considering the hot flashes I was already experiencing from the weather alone, by no means did I need to be seated that close to Damon.

"If you're insinuating the ride I'm going to be taking on that thing, than you're mistaken," I spat out defiantly. "It's not happening."

"You're afraid of motorcycles?" he asked, although it came out more as a challenge than anything else.

My competitive edge boiled below my surface as I crossed my arms over my chest and refuted, "I'm not afraid of anything."

Damon's irises briefly disappeared underneath of his lids as he shook his head from side to side. "I'd beg to differ. You're afraid of more than you'd like to let on, hence the icy walls I'm slowly picking away."

He was sporting that stupid grin again and I vaguely wondered if it really ever disappeared for longer than a few seconds, before I scolded, "You're modesty leaves a lot to be desired."

He seemed to contemplate my response for a second before releasing a loud breath of air. "C'mon Elena, just get on the bike," he pleaded in a raised tone. "I promise it'll be fun."

But I snorted and stood my ground. "If I get on that thing, the first place we're stopping is a book store," I retorted as my hands slipped from my chest and one floated into the air. "In fact, I know a great local one that sells first editions."

A puzzled expression slipped up his face as he asked, "And why are we stopping by a bookstore?"

"Because we need to get you an original dictionary," I chipped back. "You're definition of fun is terrible construed."

"Clever," he muttered, but it was obvious to see he was holding back a chuckle. His arm then extended out to grab mine as he ordered, "Now get on the bike."

But I slid my shoulder back, just far enough to slip beyond his reach, and argued, "No, they're dangerous." I knew I was being ridiculous, but this was seriously an issue for me. I didn't want to have to wrap my legs around Damon and I certainly didn't see the novelty of riding down a highway without being fully enclosed inside of four protective steel walls.

He sighed at my movement, the contours of his pectoral muscles rising and falling as he did, before he justified, "It's my experience that the dangerous things in life are usually the most fulfilling."

_And it's my experience that the dangerous things in life usually leave your heart shattered on the side of some deserted highway._

But the sound of his voice was seductive, smooth like the finest silk, and I felt goose bumps spread across the top layer of my olive skin. I weakly reminded myself that the dangerous things Damon was referring to weren't him, but I was already having a difficult time deciphering between my own thoughts and what was actually being said.

My heart was beating fast and I was thankful that Damon couldn't heart the supersonic beats that I could feel, as I ultimately gave in. My hand extended in his direction and I muttered, "Fine, give me the helmet."

He did without question, and as I lowered it onto my head, he took a step forward. His hands lifted and extended to grasp the ends of the straps, pulling them up and under my chin. His face was close, enticingly close, as his fingers slipped along the underside of my jaw. Every brush of his skin against mine was electric, sending shocks and blasts straight through my body and out of my fingertips.

I couldn't pull my eyes from the sight of his. And although they were focused on his hands now as he clicked the strap into place, I could feel them on my skin. They were like lasers etching his mark along my surface, when he finally looked up and locked contact with me.

The radiant blue disappeared slightly when his lids narrowed, momentarily deep in thought, before he pulled back. His hand then lifted to brush a few strands of my hair behind the strap along the side of my face. The touch felt more like a caress than anything else and with a devilish smirk, he cooed, "Don't you look adorable."

And just like that, the moment was broken.

I was relieved of my trance and swatted his hand from my face. "Don't chastise me," I scolded and felt the need to call him out on his actions. "And besides, I thought you just wanted to be my friend."

He chuckled softly to himself before throwing one leg into the air and straddling the bike. There was a flash of immaculate white teeth as he countered mockingly, "What? You don't tell your friends they look adorable?"

Damon then extended his hand to help me onto the bike. I took the offer, slipping my hand into his, and placed myself behind him, before immediately letting go. "Do you?" I countered over his shoulder.

"Good point," he declared. And as he turned the ignition switch, the vibrations of his laughter through the back of his chest became undecipherable against those from the exhaust rumble. My entire body was pulsing against his and I could feel the tremors develop between my thighs. I tightened my muscles, in hopes of alleviating the sensation, and inhaled deeply.

The smell of his aftershave seduced my nostril; refreshing aromas of crisp spring water and spices knitted with my thought process, as my hands instinctively slid around his sides. The thin cotton fabric of his shirts was like a second skin and as my fingertips grazed along the divots and ripples of his muscles, Damon's torso twisted underneath of my grip.

"Now hold on tight, Elena. This is gonna be the ride of your life," he yelled over the sounds, ripping me from my previous captivation.

I shook my head to clear my haze, but just as I opened my mouth to speak a reply, the bike's engine let out a mighty roar. As instructed, I tightened my grip around his sides as we shot out onto the street. And as the wind began rushing through my hair, I couldn't help but consider the truth in Damon's last statement. Problem being, I just wasn't sure how literal that truth was.

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><p><strong>AN: Good news is, the entire next chapter will be Damon and Elena. Bad news is, it won't be posted for about 2-3 weeks. I'm sorry, but I'm flying home to spend the holidays with my friends and family and since I see them about twice a year (oh the joys of being a military wife), I don't want to spend that time locked in a room writing. I promise to try and post again as soon as I can and thank you in advance for your patience.**

**Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and I'll see you guys in 2012!**

_**Please Read and Review! :)**_

_Follow me on Tumblr (morvamp)_


	6. Chapter 6

**If you received 2 email alerts, it's because I was told that apparently the original email link wasn't working. No changes were made to the chapter if you read it the first time around.**

**Happy VD Thursday!**

**Thank you so much for all of your reviews for the last chapter. I appreciate every single one you all left and apologize for not responding to many of them this time around, but I was really stretched for time and figured you'd want a new chapter out of me more than a reply. I tried my best to get this written as quickly as I could, but life just sort of got in the way, as it usually does.**

_**Hope it makes up for the long wait. **_

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><p>"I don't even need to ask, it's written all over your face that I was right," Damon mused as I stepped off of his motorcycle and removed my helmet. "You love the bike."<p>

He was surprisingly correct. The trip to Richmond had taken a little over an hour but already I wanted to feel the rush of free wind across my skin again. The experience had been refreshing, the speed exhilarating, which had only been intensified by the sense of Damon's skin beneath my fingertips. He'd been so close during the trip that I was thankful for the gushing wind because at least it relieved the heat blasting his ass from between my thighs. Those very thighs now quivered and I briefly wondered if it was due to our physical separation or the fact that they'd gripped so tightly around Damon for over an hour.

"It wasn't terrible," I admitted with a revealing smile, "but I _am_ curious as to where you're taking me."

Damon, who had already stepped onto the sidewalk, turned back and lifted his hands into the air. "It should be fairly obvious by now considering the fact that we're here."

"You brought me to a bar?" I asked, incredulous, as we approached the familiar entryway of _Sliders_. I'd been to this bar a thousand times over the past two years. Actually, I'd been a frequent visitor of pretty much every bar on this strip. It was located only 10 minutes from Richmond College and was a favorite drinking location for all of the students. Typically, whenever I approached this area I was ready to party, but certainly not today and certainly not with the stale alcohol still splashing around my stomach from last night.

"The first of many, actually," Damon replied enthusiastically, ignoring my attitude change completely.

"You mean - we're bar crawling in the middle of the day?" I questioned, only faintly disguising my disappointment, as he held the door open and we walked into the bar.

"Something like that," he answered as I turned to face him. His eyes had already started drifting around the venue. I fully expected to see his line of contact linger on specific females dressed in skimpy skirts, but instead he seemed to be focused on the place itself. His eyes darted around the tacky street signs and Hollywood memorabilia littering the walls as he guided me towards the red plastic bar.

His eyes were still roaming, taking in our surroundings, when we finally took our seats and I asked, "Are you trying to get me back for last night? Or are you just an alcoholic because I have to tell you…"

"I'm not an alcoholic," he interrupted with a chuckle as his eyes latched onto mine. "And as tempting as your first question sounds, we're here for an entirely different reason."

"And that reason is," I inquired.

"Research. We're tasting beer," he answered as the attractive brunette female bar tender, who introduced herself as Mary, approached for our orders. Her outfit consisted of a tightly fitted black t-shirt and barely there shorts and her eyes focused in on only Damon. I wasn't even sure she registered my existence; all she could concentrate on was him. But Damon didn't seem to notice as he order two house beers; one ale and one lager. Mary's eyes lingered a few seconds longer on my companion before she nodded her head and turned around to retrieve his drinks.

"You didn't need to order two. There's no way I could possibly stomach more alcohol today," I stated with a quick emphatic glance towards my tummy.

Mary sat our drinks onto the bar and waited for an acknowledgement from Damon, but his turquoise irises simply followed the line of mine towards my midsection before slowly drifting back to my face. "But we're not drinking, we're tasting," Damon lightly countered, continuing to ignore a baffled Mary.

"And the difference is?" I asked through a giggle as Mary stormed off.

"We're not drinking to get drunk," he clarified, placing one of the chilled bottles into my palm and the other in his own. "We're drinking to see which beers taste better than others."

He then lifted the bottle to his lips and took a swig, and although my stomach was sending me waves of protest, I found myself mimicking his action. I could feel his eyes watching me intently for a reaction to the lager as it slipped down the back of my throat. The liquid tasted bitter at first, but left a delicate, delightful aftertaste along the back of my tongue. And as I pulled the glass rim from my lips and placed it back onto the bar, I nodded my head appreciatively. "This one's good."

"Not mine," he responded with a grimace. "Switch."

I swapped bottles without question and didn't hesitate lifting the ale to my lips. Normally, the thought of touching something that had already been tainted with someone else's DNA sent a squeamish sensation throughout my body, but not with Damon. With him, I didn't think twice about the act.

The darker liquid of this beverage was much stronger and left my mouth feeling dry. Needless to say, Damon had been correct and my expression revealed enough that words weren't necessary to express my opinion. My nose scrunched up in distaste and an amused smile played on the corners of his lips as he swallowed the preferred beverage of the two.

"I can't believe you let me taste that. It was terrible!" I scolded playfully as we set our bottles back onto the bar.

"I needed your opinion for my research," he admitted through laughter. "And maybe I couldn't resist seeing your reaction."

"That adorable?" I asked cheekily.

His eyes narrowed at the question as his tongue slipped below his upper lip to wipe a bit of beer from the surface. And although the act, I'm sure, wasn't meant to turn me on, it had _that _exact reaction. My tongue glided along the back of my teeth, desperate to escape and help him clear any leftover beer on his bottom lip, and our legs were turned in each other's direction. He was only inches away, so easy to lean forward and in to.

"We need two more, different than before, and then were good," Damon called out to Mary, breaking the previous line of contact.

I briefly felt the sting of frustration when I realized what he'd said. "Two more? Are you going to be able to drive us back tonight if we keep going at this rate?" All I could envision in my head now was Stefan sliding behind the wheel of his car and slamming it into the side of my parents as I pointed out, "I mean, we're still at the first bar."

But his hand lifted and placed itself on top of my shoulder. It made slow, soothing motions against my skin as he reasoned, "Relax, Elena, we're only taking a sip from each. At this rate, I'd have to buy every case they have behind that bar to even feel a buzz."

I let out a sigh of relief, not just because of the calming effect his fingers had on my shoulder, but also because of the logic behind his reasoning.

"Although," he teased against the side of my face, "maybe I should start chugging later in the day so you have to drive the bike home."

His breath was warm against the skin of my ear and tickled the side of my neck, dangerous tickles that led down dangerous roads. So I pulled away and muttered, "Very funny. You wouldn't dare."

Damon leaned towards me, his eyebrows drifted up and down as a challenging smirk slid across his lips. "Or would I?"

My eyes followed the motion of a roll as I countered, "Enough with the flirty eye crap, Fabio. It's time to get back down the question and answer portion of our day."

"So, why are we tasting beers?" I asked through Damon's amused chuckles as Mary set two more bottles onto the bar.

As I took a sip of the first option, Damon mulled the question over a second before asking, "Can I answer that question another time?"

I nearly spit out the liquid and chastised, "We've just started the day and already you're resisting to answer my question? The rules we established on the porch clearly stated that you'll answer any…" I rambled.

But he took the bottle from my hands and placed it onto the table, forcing my attention on his face as he explained, "And the only reason I'm not answering is because I'm still figuring out the reply. I don't want to end up lying to you in the long run, so when I get it all figured out, I'll give you an answer. You have my word."

The fiery conviction behind the radiant blue of his eyes settled any argument building inside of me. So, I declared, "Fine, but as a consolation, you have to answer a serious question."

He smiled at my compliance and stated, "Okay, shoot."

"What happened to your parents?" I asked, immediately regretting the blunt nature it had left my lips. I knew how delicate this topic was from first-hand experience and should have eased into it with a little more tact.

But Damon didn't seem to mind. Instead, the smirk remained intact as he observed, "Jumping right into the deep end topics are we? Don't you at least want to tip toe through the shallow end by asking me a few simple questions like what's my favorite color?"

I couldn't resist the curve of my own smile at his light-hearted banter. And for the sake of throwing him a bone, I asked, "What's your favorite color?"

"Black," he answered coolly.

"Figures," I muttered just loud enough for him to hear. "Age?"

"23."

"Rap or rock and roll?"

"What about country?" he countered.

After a brief roll of my eyes, I asked, "Fine; rap, rock and roll, or country?"

"Definitely rock and roll," he adamantly declared. "I hate country."

I couldn't resist the laugh that rose from my chest as I questioned, "Band?"

"Bright Eyes."

"A little feminine don't you think?" I quipped, and before he had the opportunity for a comeback, I questioned, "Food?"

"Rib eye"

"Siblings?"

"Nope."

"Snow or rain?"

"Am I taking a survey on MySpace?" he teased.

"That jab's not even relevant anymore," I scolded. "Just answer the question."

"Snow."

"Alcohol?"

He seemed to actually contemplate this question before answering, "Whiskey or Bourbon. It depends on the day."

"Alright," I declared, feeling satisfied with our progress, "now that we've conquered the shallow end, what happened to your parents?"

He paused at the question this time and took a swig of his beer, his silhouette no longer that of a cheerful college frat guy but instead an older man, burdened from a painful past. But as he turned on me, and switched beers, his expression lifted back to its normal state and he proclaimed, "My mother passed giving birth to me."

I felt the entire atmosphere of our previously light afternoon quickly deflate and knew it was a result of my own doing. Guilt momentarily seeped its way into my conscious before I pushed it aside. Because this issue was difficult, for both of us, but if I was really going to know and understand Damon, this conversation was crucial. So I braced myself for his continuation.

"My father used to tell me it was easier not knowing my mother before she died because, at least, that way I didn't have someone to miss," Damon admitted softly, his eyes focusing straight ahead as he revisited his distant memories. "But I never believed that because, although I'd never met her, I still missed her. The only difference between knowing someone and not knowing someone before they die is having characteristics to focus on when you're thinking of them. I only had pictures and stories, but it was enough and I hardly see how the grief was any easier."

I considered the characteristics I focused on when I thought about my parents: the lilac of my mother's perfume and the color of her lipstick that always managed to stick to my cheek, the tight embrace of my father when he hugged me and his stale sense of humor. There were a trillion characteristics I focused on when thinking of them and I wondered if these characteristics made it more difficult to deal with their loss.

"I'm sorry," I found myself spilling out because ultimately I realized that it didn't matter how many characteristics you focused on, you still focused on the person you lost. You still focused on that pain and losing characteristics didn't alleviate the feeling of losing _someone_. "Your father should have never said that."

"He only did it because I reminded him so much of her," Damon rationalized with a slight shrug. "My father and I never had a good relationship. It wasn't bad when I was a child, but then I grew up and he started to see more of her in me. You see; I have her eyes, hair, expressions, temperament, the whole bit, or at least that's what he used to tell me."

He then turned to face me for the first time and I noticed his eyes weren't rimmed with strained liquid or the tortured color of red like mine would have been. Instead, they just appeared sad.

"And when it became too hard for him to look at me, I was sent away to boarding school. There I was no longer a reminder of who I'd killed while coming into this world, but it didn't exactly make our relationship any easier. I resented him for the longest time, hated him actually, for blaming me for similarities and a death that was beyond my control, and as a result we hardly ever talked."

He then paused for a second and ran his fingertips through the condensation his bottle had left along the bar. The liquid, to me, was a reminder of the tears I would have shed if this was my story, but it wasn't. Still, I had the sudden urge to share them for the pain Damon had been drug through, but somehow held them back.

"I didn't talk to him for four years," he continued, "nor did I fly home for holidays and he passed alone, in his study, without anyone by his side. That's when I spiraled and tampered around my delinquent, heartbreaker stage, as you like to refer to it," he softly joked, cracking the ghost of a smile. "But I've long since stepped back out of that, only the clothes remained."

I tried my best to smile at his attempt at a joke, but found it difficult. Because clearly Damon had been through a difficult childhood. His expression was no longer tight from his typical smirk, but instead every feature of his face seemed to droop from despair. He was raw, bare, wide open right now and I'd never felt more connected to someone's agony in my life.

"Damon, I'm so sorry," I finally managed to say. It didn't seem like nearly enough, but it was the best I could muster up.

"It happened when I was 18, Elena, so it's alright," he reasoned with a crooked smile. "Tragedy happens and you learn to take from it what you can. For me, it was a long process, but I learned how to forgive myself and most importantly to forgive him."

He then let out a long sigh that spoke of exhaustion, perhaps from the emotional trip he'd taken to get to this positive point in his life, and proclaimed, "And that's the only thing I wish I could change. Life is too short to hold onto grudges and I wish that I'd been able to forgive my dad and be there with him when he passed."

Instantly, I thought of Stefan and the hate I was holding on towards him. I wasn't sure how I'd ever be able to overcome that hate the way Damon had with his father. Even with the eventuality of death hovering distantly in the future, it didn't seem possible. But there was something about the reality Damon spoke of that gave me hope. It was weak, but for the first time it was there. And it was because of that hope that I breathed out a heartfelt, "Thank you for telling me."

"You're welcome," he responded softly, "and whenever you're ready, I'll be here when you want to tell me your story."

The metaphorical barbed wire seemed to restrict around my heart at the notion that I'd ultimately have to tell Damon the full story of my parents. A portion of me realized that right now was the appropriate time. He'd shared his story so it only seemed fair that I shared mine, especially considering the fact that while they were so different, the life lessons were so very similar, but I wasn't nearly ready to dive into that section of my life with him just yet. I was still dealing with it myself.

But almost as if he was reading my apprehension, he shot me a crooked smirk and declared, "But now we need to lighten the air again a little bit and get back to the questions. Aren't you curious to know my favorite sex position?"

I sighed at the bypass of my past just as Damon winked in my direction. The motion shot a tremble straight down my spine, or perhaps it was the question, and I shook my head. I then leaned forward, smacked him lightly across the shoulder, and reminded, "Just friends!"

I then took a gulp of the second option of beer, hardly focusing on the taste and instead the moisture it supplied to my suddenly dry mouth. Damon released a few chuckles as he did the same, before he lifted his hands innocently into the air and countered, "I know, I know! But the downer moment's gone isn't it?"

I had to admit, the guy sure was clever about his tactics. Half of the time I couldn't decide if he was flirting with me or if it was just his normal behavior and as a result, my eyes narrowed and I supplied ruefully, "It is."

"Alright then," he responded cheerfully as his hands rubbed together, "time to move on to the next bar." Damon's eyes then drifted down to the almost-full bottles of alcohol on the bar before he asked, "Which beer was your favorite?"

Considering I hadn't tasted my last beer, I briefly considered the first three options and declared, "The first one gets my stamp of approval."

"And the third gets mine," he said as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and threw a twenty onto the plastic bar. "Onto the next bar and question."

I nodded approvingly and slid off of my bar stool, eager for what other discoveries the rest of the day would bring, before insisting, "And some food!"

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><p>Two meals, and 24 different tastes of beer later, Damon and I had successfully killed the afternoon. I'd accompanied him to four different bars, where I noticed his eyes intently surveyed the scenery each time, and had successfully chosen 6 beers the winner of our taste competition. I still had no idea what the taste competition was about, but figured that if he was waiting patiently on my story about my parents, it only seemed fair that I could wait for his answer regarding the tasting.<p>

By the time we'd decided to head home, the sun had already begun to set, casting stunning streaks of reds, oranges, and purples amidst the skyline. The once-prominent romantic in me couldn't see past the aesthetic quality of it and as we rode our way back to Mystic Fall, I found myself thankful that I was able to share this image with Damon.

Our day had been filled with heavy amounts of playful bickering, light flirtation, and laughter and it didn't come as a surprise that I'd enjoyed it. I'd been expecting to; actually, it was one of the reasons I'd so stubbornly resisted his offer in the first place. Because I knew we'd hit it off and especially because now I knew a fragment about what made Damon, well, Damon. And I couldn't deny that what I'd discovered over the course of our day was alluring, so alluring that I'd almost found myself revealing personal information that wasn't necessary. But that was because Damon just had that aura about him that made me feel comfortable, as if conversing with him was as simple as walking.

He'd followed through on his initial promise, answering every question I threw at him, which I later realized made him even more appealing. And throughout the course of the day, my questions, that started out generally broad, seemed to concentrate on certain portions of his life as I got to know him better.

I learned all about his childhood. He had two close friends, a $5 allowance a week, and caught his father signing a note from Santa Claus at the age of six, which I found terribly unfortunate. Damon even expanded on his relationship with Giuseppe, his father, a bit further and explained how this portion in his life seemed to hold the fondest memories he had of the man.

I learned about Winchester Academy, his boarding school, located in Canfield, Ohio. A fight broke out after Giuseppe found Damon digging through his mother's old jewelry, landing Damon there until the age of 18. It's where he'd met his roommate and partaken in the first signs of his downward spiral. And it was there that the two had decided to depart on an epic failure of a road trip, as Damon liked to refer to it.

I'd found the road trip section of Damon's life entertaining, for more reasons than one. It took place shortly after the passing of his father, which resulted in his _rebel without a cause _stage. He'd experimented with a few drugs along the way, stayed at some really shitty motels, and embraced the overall downfalls that came with surviving off of little to no money. The resourceful schemes for living accommodations he'd come up with along the way had been amusing to hear, but I'd found his stories about girls the most insightful.

He'd had an abundance of lines and tricks to charm the ladies, although secretly, I knew his physical features probably had a lot to do with it as well. Most of the time, all it took was a simple line about losing the keys to his bike or feeling a little too tipsy to breach the inside of a chick's room for the night. And by the time we'd trudged through the romance section of his life, I'd successfully uncovered all of his witty one-liners that resulted in the highest success rates. Most were downright ridiculous and had me keeling over in laughter, but I secretly took pride in knowing he could no longer attempt to use them on me.

To my surprise or dismay, he'd even answered my question about partners, which I still couldn't believe I'd had the courage to ask. The number was a little too high for my personal taste, but although the thought of him sleeping with so many women should have intimidated me, it didn't. And that's because we'd also talked about the portion of his life he was living now; the one he'd started living once he realized it was time to grow up.

It was remarkable how much he'd changed over the course of the past three years and to say I was impressed was the understatement of the century. He'd stopped sleeping around, accepted the life insurance and inheritance which had been waiting for him and moved back into his parent's house here in Mystic Falls. He'd started taking business classes at the local community college and was on the fast track to getting his life where he envisioned it should be.

In the span of 8 hours, I'd learned so much more than I'd expected to about Damon, more than any guy I'd dated since Stefan; his interests, what set him off and made him tick, his fears, his passions, and especially his personalities. I'd witnessed the entire spectrum, starting with the fury that ignited when I insisted Donatello was the best Ninja Turtle, and ending with the joy in his eyes when I got him to speak about his mother. So many had popped up over the course of our day and while the most frequent seemed to be the optimistic, light, and witty Damon I'd already become accustomed to, there was also a deeply sincere portion of him which I'd just started to get to know.

But although I'd dug through a large section of his past, I'd just barely breached the surface. For the first time since I'd rewritten the rules for my dating life, I found myself desperate to get to know someone of the opposite sex the way I used to. And when Damon finally slowed his bike to a stop in front of my house, I felt the disappointment that came with the end of our day and the end of my answers.

Still, I had one more question that absolutely needed to be answered before the day was officially over. I knew I shouldn't have wanted to ask it as desperately as I did, but our time together had done something to me, sparked a desire I'd become unfamiliar with. And as I threw my leg over his bike and stepped off, I contemplated the best way to ask him.

"Well, I hope today proved I'm not the worst company in the world, Elena," Damon mused as he removed his helmet.

"I have one more question," I finally just came out and declared as I removed my own. Damon then turned around to look at me and the sight of him in the dim moonlight was almost surreal. The light from the moon caught specific strands of his raven hair, illuminating them with hints of violet, and his eyes gleamed a breathtaking hue of blue.

He resembled the perfectly chiseled vampires and hauntingly beautiful creatures I'd caught a few times on my television and it was that sight that had me forgetting all about the manner of nonchalance I'd been aiming for when asking my question. Instead, I simply breathed out, "Did you mean it?"

He knitted his brows together and shot me that all familiar smirk as he directed, "You're gonna have to be a little more specific than that, Elena. Did I mean what?"

I shook my head, still trying to reduce the startling nature of his features in the moonlight, and explained, "When we first spoke, you said we could be something big. Did you mean it or was it just a line?"

He set his helmet slowly onto the bike and walked around to do the same with mine. Then he turned back to me with a sad smile on his lips and answered, "It was just a line, one that I only used on you. I didn't lie about that."

I was shocked to realize how much that answer truly disappointed me when at first I'd found the concept behind the line so absurdly hilarious. Funny how Damon already seemed to be getting under my skin and adjusting the way I viewed certain things. And without intending to do so, my expression fell to reveal my disappointment, when he added, "But that doesn't mean that it couldn't have been true. We could've been something big."

I swallowed the lump developing in the back of my throat and wondered why this moment felt so charged with energy.

"_Could_ be something big," he corrected in a deeply smooth voice, taking a step towards me as the essence of his statement lingered between us.

His eyes were latched onto only mine as his face rested merely inches before me. Normally, this would have been the moment where a first kiss would have been shared, but I'd done nothing but remind Damon that we were simply friends since the start of our day. If anyone was going to make a move, it would have to be me and that was certainly something I never did. It was one of my rules; always maintain the essence that you're in control. Still, he wasn't wavering from his stance and instead he stood his ground. His magnetic pull was excruciating; I was simply a compass, he my north, as I debated leaning forward to capture what I wanted. Every strand of hair on my body was electrified with energy when my cell rang in my pocket.

Damon glanced down towards my jean pocket, which I could faintly see glowing from my active cell. Realizing it was probably Caroline with an update on how her date had gone, I mentally cursed my friend for having such impeccable timing. Because Damon's eyes were no longer on mine and our moment had clearly ended.

So, I sighed and reached to pull the cell out of my pocket, when I felt Damon's fingers wrap around my forearm and pull me towards him. The fingertips of his freehand feathered the skin around my neck as his lips crashed against mine. His luscious lips curved around my own and instinctively, like an invisible zipper being pulled from my base, locking me in place with my other half; I found my body mold into his.

I vaguely heard my phone silence itself in a distant realm below our intimate act, but all I could concentrate on was the sensation of his mouth contorting around my own. The skin of his lips was soft and inviting as they brushed along my own and long before I was ready, I felt them start to pull away. But just as they did, I lifted my hand to grip onto his and held him into place. I wasn't nearly ready for the moment to end just yet and it was the only motion I could execute to possibly pull him closer and back to me.

As his lips lingered on my own a moment longer, I savored the taste, memorizing the essence it left along my skin. And when his lips finally peeled from mine, my edges parted slightly in disbelief. My eyes remained closed a second longer as I tried to regain my bearings. Honestly, it felt like I'd been sucker punch because every ounce of air within my lungs had escaped along with his lips, but I knew better than to associate this feeling with a punch. He'd left me awestruck, and that was the reason I couldn't breathe, plain and simple.

"I told you that you wouldn't regret being my friend," I heard Damon muse softly.

When I slowly opened my eyes, his fulfilled smirk was already set into place and it was easy to see he was satisfied with the progression of our day together. There were no comebacks or snide remarks in the back of my throat. All I could do was stare blankly at his expression and wonder if this entire moment was real or simply some angelic fantasy I'd contrived in my mind.

"Friend," is what I finally breathed out, internally wondering if it had come out as a question or confirmation.

He then shot one last pleased grin in my direction and whispered, "Goodnight, Elena," before he stepped back onto his bike and road off into the darkness of the night, leaving me completely blindsided.

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review. :)<strong>_

**I swear I had this kiss, dialogue, and location already planned for the end of this chapter. Then we got that epic, heart-melting, let me finally let out a sigh of relief kiss at the end of last week's episode and I had to pay a little respect to it. **

_**As a side note**__**:**__ I finally started using the twitter account I set up months ago. You can follow me at **morvamp** for updates about my stories, writing, and personal crap._

_Follow me on Tumblr (morvamp)_


	7. Chapter 7

**Huge thanks to my friend **_**bibi 13ca**_** for looking over this chapter for me and offering suggestions. **

_**Hope you guys like it.**_

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><p>"So let me get this straight, you spent the entire day getting to know each other?" Bonnie asked from her position on my bed, judgment practically dripping in her tone. "And then he just left after a kiss?"<p>

"No," I replied with a frustrated sigh as I worked my way through the clothes hanging in my closet. "_I_ just got to know _him_."

As I pushed a lavender top across the pole, I mentally cursed myself for inviting Bonnie to come over when she called this afternoon and asked what I was up to. It'd been over a week since I'd seen her and, at the time, that ache over missing my best friend outshined the truth that I knew she'd never understand whatever the hell I had going on with Damon.

Now, I seriously debated why I'd let it.

"Well at least you haven't completely fallen off the deep end," she muttered from the bed at my back.

I spun around to shoot her a heated look, my pin straight locks falling over my shoulder as I asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," she explained in a clipped tone as she focused on filing her nails, "that I'm just a little confused about why you still want to hang out with the guy. You have a gazillion others eager and ready to jump into bed with you and yet this one only leaves you with a kiss." Her cinnamon irises then drifted up to meet mine and she accused, "The Elena I know would have already moved onto the next. This one's too much work."

I couldn't deny the truth in her accusations. Normally, I would have already found myself bored with Damon. I mean, until today, I'd only seen him once since our day together and that was when he stopped by to shoot the shit and watch UFC with Ric in the living room. He'd hardly noticed when I entered the room to join them and only partook in small chit chat while I was there before leaving. He'd acted like nothing had happened between us, that we hadn't shared the very kiss that knocked my socks off.

But I knew better than to believe that. I'd felt the same connection he'd felt during the kiss, so the only thing that made sense was that he was playing some sort of game. It didn't seem to fit the character of the guy he claimed and appeared to be now, but he'd been a player before and perhaps that side of him was reappearing again with me.

He'd shown up today to hang out with Ric again, only to execute the same level of communication before quickly inviting me out tonight as he walked out of the door. I had no freaking idea where we stood nor did I feel in control of the situation or my desires.

Still, for some unknown reason, I found myself defending what was happening to Bonnie. "He's not too much work."

She raised her perfectly penciled brows into the air and countered, "Says the girl he ended the night with by referring to as his friend."

"But only because I'd insisted we stay that way from the start of the day," I reasoned and turned back towards my clothes. _How the hell was I ever supposed to find something to wear if I didn't know whether I was going out with Damon on a date or as just friends? _This question became even more confusingconsidering the fact that the kiss we shared felt nothing like a 'friends' kind, whatsoever.

"It sounds like you're making excuses," she accused from behind me.

"And it sounds like you're being more judgmental than helpful," I answered impatiently, not even bothering to turn around to see her reaction.

"Look, I'm just trying to understand," she argued. "It's not like you to stick around and work towards a relationship. You tend to jump into them just as quickly as you jump back out. And then there's the whole issue of you actually getting to know him, which baffles me. I'm just trying to figure out what it is about this guy that matters so much to you to switch up your game."

At that, I paused for a moment and let my hand rest on one of my favorite maroon dresses. So many reasons popped into my mind as answers to her question, but none that made any logical sense to the girl I considered myself to be.

And after a brief moment, I finally turned around to face my best friend and replied honestly, "I'm not sure."

Bonnie's eyes narrowed as she took in my answer. She appeared as downright baffled by my confusion as I was before her lids popped back open and she threw her pointer finger into the air. There was a mixture of excitement and acceptance in her tone as she proclaimed, "It's the fact that he's _making_ you work for it, isn't it? The rush of the game, that's what it is. You find it exciting!"

Her logic seemed accurate, but I couldn't ignore the portion of my brain insisting that the challenge in claiming Damon wasn't entirely the reason behind why I was so intent on seeing him again. But instead of admitting that out loud, I simply shrugged and offered, "Maybe."

"Well then, if that's the case, then we need to find you something better than that to wear," Bonnie directed. Her eyes were on the comfortable maroon dress against my hand when she lifted herself from my bed and maneuvered her way between me and my clothes. Her movements were spastic and full of life as she got down to work and within no time, she'd pulled out a tight-fitting black mini-dress.

She then turned on me, held the piece into the air, and explained, "You want to make him aware of exactly what he's missing out on. And this one will have him eating out of the palm of your hand by the end of the night. Or, better yet, eating _you_ out by the end of the night."

The determined fire was blazing in my friends eyes and I could clearly see that, no matter what I said to her, I'd still end up wearing that dress. So I conceded before even entering into a battle with her over my attire and took the thing from her hand.

As I removed my comfortable clothes and slipped into the dress, I questioned, "So what are you up to tonight?"

I shimmied the fabric over my breasts and slid my arms through the spaghetti straps. Then I felt Bonnie connect my zipper up along my back as she declared, "Let's just say that one of us is already guaranteed to be getting action tonight. And with you in this dress, both of us will be."

She then turned me around to face the mirror. The dress hugged my curves perfectly, looking more like it had been painted onto my skin than put over it. The hem came just below the cheeks of my butt and the smile that spread across my lips in my reflection only set the dress off more. I looked stunning, sexy and elegant, without appearing like a cheap prostitute and knew that Bonnie was right. There was no way in hell Damon would be able to resist me after tonight. And the best part was, it wouldn't have to be me making the move.

Quickly, I threw on some accent jewelry and makeup to set my appearance ablaze before saying goodbye to Bonnie. I'd just shut the front door when Alaric walked out from the kitchen with a spatula in his hand.

"Jenna went out to get some milk, but I threw some chicken on the grill if you want any before you…" he started, but cut off as his eyes drifted to my outfit. His eyes bugged out of their sockets and he appeared positively aghast by my appearance.

"Umm," he stuttered as his spatula-free hand scratched a section of skin behind his ear. "Are you meeting Damon looking like that?"

"Yeah, is there a problem?" I questioned with raised brows.

I thought I heard him mumble something under his breath along the lines of, "Oh, I really wish Jenna was here for this," before he finally replied, "Don't you think it's a bit revealing?"

"Ric, I'm 20 years old," I reminded in a clipped tone.

"Right," he said uncomfortably, still fumbling with the spatula in his hand. "Well, are you two at least using protection?"

I felt my jaw slag slightly because had he really just asked me that? That topic was three shades more awkward than any discussion I'd ever wanted to enter into with _Ric_ and the fact that he was trying to take on the father role had my insides searing. But then I remembered Damon saying_ the man's scared shitless of you_ and finally took a closer look at the guy standing before me.

Alaric's hands were shaking and it was clear to see he was just as uncomfortable with this discussion as I was. Obviously, he was just doing what he thought was expected of him. So, I sighed and tried my best to keep things civilized. "My mom covered this conversation years ago, Ric, so it's really not necessary."

He let out a relieved breath of air and replied, "Okay." His hands then moved clumsily back to the skin behind his ear as he added, "Alright." The awkward essence of the moment still hadn't subsided and I wondered how long he was going to remain standing there when, thankfully, the doorbell rang.

The noise jolted Ric out of his motionless state. He nodded his head approvingly, declared, "Have fun tonight," and was out of the room within the blink of an eye. Every one of his motions had been spastic and I had to hold back the chuckle as I swung the front door open to reveal Damon.

He looked exactly as he always did; effortlessly stunning under a sea of black. The sight had my knees shaking beneath me and my heart pounding in my ears, which came as a shock. I'd never had this initial reaction to the sight of a guy on my door step before, and yet, there it was; completely unshakable. And as I swallowed down the remnants of my previous chuckle, Damon noticed the contorted expression on my face.

"What's so funny?" he asked with knitted brows.

"It was nothing," I dismissed easily.

He nodded his head, accepting my answer, before his eyes took in my carefully chosen dress. They walked their way slowly up my body; starting at the sky high pumps, lingering over my long legs, screeching to a brief halt at the curvature of my hips, before finally creeping their way up my chest and onto my face. He'd drank in my though-out elixir just as I'd planned before he finally assessed, "You look amazing."

There was a bit of awe in the consistency of his voice that I couldn't help but smile at. And as I replied, "You don't look too bad yourself, Salvatore," I realized that just maybe getting Damon to make the next move was going to be even easier than I'd thought. It certainly appeared that way since his eyes had drifted back down and hadn't been able to detach themselves from my waistline.

They lingered a few seconds longer as his tongue swept from behind his teeth to play with his bottom lip. Instinctively, _my_ bottom lip became captured beneath _my_ teeth as I wondered anxiously if he was going to make a move. But, to my dismay, after another second, his eyes reclaimed contact with mine as his arm extended out and Damon insisted, "Come on."

I could feel the flexing of his forearm through the fabric of his black button down as we walked down the steps of my front porch. And as we reached the end of the walkway and stepped onto the familiar asphalt of my driveway, I realized this was the exact location of our kiss a week before. Suddenly, the faint wind from the night air brushed against my lips and I became very aware of how much I wished they'd just connect with Damon's again. It had seemed like such a defining moment for us before, but now Damon was acting like it never happened.

"No motorcycle tonight?" I asked, pushing my thoughts aside, as we approached a blue vehicle.

"I figured we'd take the Camaro," he replied coolly. Then his hand reached back to play with a few strands of my chestnut locks as he teased, "Didn't want to mess up your hair."

I trembled at the touch, happy for any form of contact my body was obviously craving, even if it was just my hair, as I turned to face him. Pushing my desires aside and choosing to ignore his too easy girl jab, I instead asked, "Exactly how rich are you?"

He shrugged and answered, "Moderately."

"We're back to deflection I see," I accused through narrowed eyes.

"No," he countered with a chuckle. "I just try to keep modest about these sorts of things. Running around and screaming that I'm a millionaire at the top of my lungs might make me look like an ass."

Secretly, the word millionaire blasted throughout my brain, but I kept my cool and instead teased, "That's not an issue, you already do."

"Ouch," he declared dramatically through another chuckle with an emphatic clasp over his heart. "I guess I'm going to have to work on that. I'll start by getting your door."

There was a conniving smirk pulling the corner of his lips upward as he lowered his hand to open the car door. It had me feeling wary when a familiar voice screamed, "Surprise!"

"Caroline?" I asked in shock as my friend's blonde curl's bounced up between the front two seats. "What's going on?"

Her white teeth were gleaming in the back seat when her arm extended around a brown-eyed, muddy-haired boy sitting next to her. "I'd like you to meet the guy I've been seeing. Tyler this is Elena. Elena this is Tyler; Damon's roommate."

Caroline giggled as my mind processed the information she'd just thrown at me. I'd spoken on the phone with her almost every night this week about her new boy toy and not once had she brought up the important fact that he was Damon's roommate.

"Are you serious right now?" I asked incredulously. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I just found out when Damon picked me up tonight," she explained before nuzzling herself into Tyler's side. "How cool is this, though? We're both dating guys that live under the same roof!"

"Actually, we're just friends," Damon chimed in from outside of the car, which felt exactly like a kick in the ass.

I quickly rolled my eyes at his comment and asked Caroline, "Can you give me a minute?"

She nodded her head enthusiastically before I pulled back out of the car and shut the door. It was then I turned back to Damon with my arms crossed defensively over my chest and accused through a whisper, "Why didn't you tell me Caroline and your roommate were coming along?"

His head shot backwards, imitating how taken aback he must have been by my heated tone. Then his eyes narrowed in that way that revealed the thought wheels processing in his head. "I didn't think it mattered."

I didn't like the way he was looking at me now because it made me feel vulnerable, like he knew how disappointed I was that we weren't going to be alone tonight. I hated that sense that I wasn't in control and found myself instinctively declaring, "I'm not saying it does."

Then it happened, the all-revealing confident smirk slide across his face, as he refuted, "Your tone seems to suggest you do."

"My tone doesn't suggest anything," I dismissed. "I just thought you and I were going out, that's all," I reasoned with nonchalance.

"Is that what you wanted tonight to be?" he asked with a spark of light appearing in those impeccably blue eyes of his. He then took a step forward and gently swept a strand of hair behind my ear, as his voice lowered slightly. "Just you and me?"

I briefly wondered how it was possible for someone's eyes to shine as brightly as his did, before I shook my head and lied, "No."

And just like that, the light in his eyes diminished. "Then what's the problem?"

The problem was that I wanted, no scratch that, needed him to give into me because I was finding it impossible to resist him. And now it wasn't going to happen. I didn't mind Caroline being there any other night, I really didn't, but tonight I just needed it to be me and Damon. Otherwise, how else was I going to get him to give in to me?

That's what went through my mind, but instead I muttered, "Nothing. Let's just go."

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><p>The drive had lightened my mood a bit thanks to Caroline's effervescent chatter. She hadn't been able to keep her mouth shut during the entire 30 minute trip, which I learned was due to the pre-gaming her and Tyler partook in before Damon picked them up at her house. I sat in the front seat next to Damon, whose mood seemed to be relatively cheerful as well, as the three of us fell into comfortable chatter.<p>

And when we stepped through the front doors of the nightclub _Bolt_, the hypnotic beats blasting from the sound system were enough to lift my spirits immensely. Because this was something I loved to do; I was a certified master at dancing the night away. But as we settled into an open booth along the side of the dance floor and the night started to trickle down, it became all apparent that Damon wasn't as happy as I was with Caroline's choice of bar. Nor was he as inclined to dance as I was.

As a matter of fact, we spent most of the night sitting in the booth while Tyler and Damon discussed cars. I'd heard the numbers and letters C5 Z06 and S7 be shouted, but had absolutely no idea what they meant. All I knew was that the side of Damon's leg occasionally brushed against mine, the fabric rubbing just right against my freshly shaven skin to shoot tingles down my spine.

When the boys stood up to get another round of drinks from the bar, Damon placed his hand on the small of my back and asked me what I wanted. Normally, I hated this action because it represented his possession over me, but with him I didn't mind. I actually preferred it because the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of my dress sent fervor over my entire body and all I wanted was to feel more of that sensation.

So I leaned slightly into him, loving the way his torso seemed to mold against mine as I told him to get me a sea breeze. Then the boys left and I sat back down only to have Caroline jump into her interrogation.

"You two are definitely not just friends," she leaned across the table and declared.

I scoffed, understanding all too well how much I wished this were true at the moment, and muttered, "Tell _him_ that."

But she raised her brows accusingly and insisted, "Maybe _you_ should."

"Caroline," I sighed, "that's the problem. I can't. It would go against my own rule." You never told a guy how much you wanted him and you certainly always made him ache for you. That was just the way things went.

But she rolled her eyes and countered, "You can't even use that as an argument with me, you know I find your rules absurd."

"I know you do, but I don't," I reasoned, wishing that for once my friend would consider why I'd established my rules in the first place. "They're important to me, but he's making it so difficult to stick with them."

I really didn't expect my reasoning to sink in because, obviously, Caroline thought I was being ridiculous. I had to admit, a portion of myself did as well, but if I gave in and told Damon that I wanted him; he could use it against me in the long run. He'd know how vulnerable I'd become, _already_.

But to my surprise, Caroline sighed and complied, "Fine, then we'll make _him_ crack, but only because your sexual tension is getting to me."

And at that I let out a massive squeal that I didn't even know I was capable of producing. Elation pumped through my veins as I felt my lips slip up into a conniving smile. "Just get us on the dance floor and I can do the rest," I directed.

"Done," she said before she mimicked my smile and declared, "Now tell me how much you love me."

I rolled my eyes and sang out, "Caroline Forbes, I love you."

"I know," she proclaimed and as we both released a round of giggles, Tyler and Damon returned with our drinks. Tyler had just lowered himself to slide into the both, when Caroline scooted herself out and proclaimed, "Time to dance!"

"But I'm not really a great," Tyler tried to protest, but Caroline simply ignored him. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and dragged him into the crowd, shooting a wink back in my direction as she did.

I then focused my attention back up to Damon, who was waiting for me to stand up so he could reclaim his proper spot in the booth, and suggested, "We could probably join them."

He slowly lowered the drinks in his hand and set them on the table before he turned to look at me. His face was inches away from mine and in the neon lighting of the club, the hue of his eyes looked almost unnatural, beautiful.

I momentarily wondered if there was any form of lighting that dimmed the radiance of them when he inched forward. His face rested against mine as he breathed into my ear, "Do you want me to ask you to dance?"

I wasn't sure if he did this to get closer to me like I wanted him to or because the intensity of the stereo made it difficult to hear each other. Regardless of the reason, it sent those familiar mind-numbing tingles shooting straight down my legs and out through my tip toes as I fought to keep control and responded cheekily, "I thought you'd never ask."

Then I felt the chill that came with the separation of his face from mine only to have it replaced along my wrist. His fingers adhered themselves to my skin as he pulled me from the booth and guided me through the sea of bodies along the dance floor. Random body parts rubbed against my arms as everyone swayed to the tune of Usher. But then the beats abruptly silenced themselves and the lights went out, setting a vast sheet of black over everything.

I could see nothing, which accentuated my other senses and allowed me to feel every inch of skin Damon passed over as his arm wrapped its way around the side of my waist and behind my back. I could smell the faint trace of whiskey on his breath as it mixed with his delightful aftershave and the aroma sent my body into an uncontrollable tizzy.

Then yellow lights streaked their way throughout the club like razors in tune to the new beat. I recognized it instantly as Rihanna's new hit, and began to sway myself to the rhythm, eager to show Damon what I was capable of accomplishing with my hips.

His leg maneuvered itself between my thighs as he pulled me closer towards him. My arm slipped up along his chest, the divots of his toned muscles only accentuating as he swayed to the movement of mine, and landed on top of his shoulder. It gave me the proper balance I needed to slowly start grinded myself up and down his thigh.

_It's the way I'm feeling I just can't deny._

I felt his fingertips dig further into the fabric on my back as I started rocking my hips back and forth in slow fashion. Every motion of his jeans against the inside of my thighs had my insides sparking in desire, but that was because he was keeping up with me perfectly. Every time I moved slightly to the left he followed and vice versa, locking the section of his thigh that met with pelvis into my center.

"You're good at this," I admitted as I turned myself around in his hold. His hand was now settled in the center of my tiny waist as I lowered myself to the ground and rose back up, imitating the beat building in the song for the refrain.

I pushed my ass against his front and swirled it around slowly, loving the way I could feel him through the fabric of his jeans as his hand slid up my side and along my arm. It wrapped around the back of his neck as I let my head fall onto his shoulder.

_We found love in a hopeless place._

My entire back side was flush against his as he turned his head and whispered seductively, "I've got moves you've never seen before." And a tremble rocked through my body as I considered whether he was strictly referring to his skills on the dance floor.

His lips brushed against my ear as his breath danced along the inside. There was warmth sizzling in the bottom of my tummy making its way between my thighs because every inch of his body was sliding against the back side of mine, causing a friction I was finding difficult to endure. There was so much heat radiating from the two of us that if someone lit a match, the entire club would go up in flames.

_Feel the heartbeat in my mind._

So, I turned around again, needing just a moment of separation, only to find myself immediately pulled back against him. His leg repositioned itself between mine and one of his hands pulled my body towards his while the other latched around the back of my neck. Electrical currents shot from the portion where his fingertips made contact with the skin just below my hair and I felt my breathing accelerate.

My chest rose and fell against his to the rhythm of the music and instinctively I felt my nipples pebble at the sensation of his heart beating just as rapidly as mine. I vaguely wondered if he could feel them as my nose made contact with his, that's how close our bodies were. Perspiration had started developing on the top layer of my skin as his fingers started to play with the fabric at the hem of my dress. He slid his fingertips underneath, lifting it slightly to reveal a bit more skin, and instinctively I arched myself further into him. Because he was so close to the base of my ass and the portion of my body that craved his touch the most that I just wished he'd go for it. At that moment, I didn't give a shit about everyone else surrounding us; instead it was simply just me and him.

_We found love in a hopeless place._

But he didn't. His fingertips just continued to tease the portion of my thigh that met with fabric and it had my inside's boiling with lust. Plus, his lips were millimeters from mine so all he had to do was edge slightly forward to capture what we both knew he wanted. So why the hell wasn't he going for it?

My longing must have made its way from my center and onto my expression, because Damon's smirk appeared across his lips and he mused, "If you want something, Elena, all you have to do is ask for it."

"Why do _I_ have to ask for anything?" I replied seductively, pushing my lips slightly forward so they brushed against his as I spoke. "We both know you want it too."

"Because," he started as his lips lightly grazed the surface of mine, "you were the one that insisted you don't get involved with anyone and I can't keep coming at you like I have been without some reciprocation. I'd start looking like a creep and forcing myself onto someone who doesn't want it, frankly, was never my style."

"So, that's why you've been so distant lately," I said, pulling my head back slightly so I could look at his eyes.

"I wanted to give you your space to figure out what you wanted," he answer in earnest. "But then I saw you this morning and got a bit impatient."

His hand slid over my ribcage and along the side of my breast as we dipped to the ground, resulting in another rush between my thighs. I realized then that I enjoyed the thrill his contact supplied entirely too much for safety. The fear seeped through me and although it hardly seemed like the case anymore, I couldn't help myself from asking, "So you're not playing your games on me like you did with all of those other women?"

His hand gripped tighter onto my back as his other lifted to play with the skin under my hairline. "No, this is me making the right move so you know it's not a game," he stressed. "So if anything's going to happen here, you're gonna have to let me know it's because that's what you want. And not just because I do."

_How we're standing side by side._

My heart ran a relay race in my chest at the irony behind this entire situation because Damon was asking for the one thing that I normally didn't give. Physical confirmations had always been enough in the past, but he was asking me to break my rule. I'd already somewhat broken one at the bonfire and here I was, about to break a second. _What the hell was going on with me?_

"You need a verbal acknowledgement of my attraction to you?" I asked in disbelief, feeling slightly dizzy from the rush of physical contact and the emotional circles he was spinning around my head.

He nodded his head in confirmation, the tip of his nose grazing along mine as he did. "That would work, even admitting you wanted to spend tonight with only me, would. Just give me the truth."

Internally, I heard the voice screaming not to give in, to stand strong. I didn't want to break my rule because I'd established it for a reason. If I told him the truth, then ultimately he'd know how vulnerable I was when it came to his hold over me. But his body felt warm against mine, not just from the enticing physical fire, but a comfortably safe emotional blaze as well. Plus, his eyes were still glowing that unnaturally bright shade that took my breath away.

And before I knew what was happening, I released a sigh and broke the rule. "Fine, I was disappointed that Caroline and Tyler came with us tonight. I wanted it to be just you and me."

_We found love in a hopeless place._

A smile stretched across his lips this time, not a smirk as he whispered, "I know." The statement had been completely devoid of arrogance that would have been appropriate considering I'd just admitted I had feelings for Damon and I internally begged that it meant I wouldn't regret the decision later on.

Then his head cocked slightly to the side as we dipped towards the ground in unison, and he suggested, "But they don't have to join us tomorrow night if you want to come over for dinner."

At that, I felt my cheeks plump up for a smile because the offer had been so darn cute. "Damon Salvatore, are you asking me out?" I asked and teased, "How old-fashion of you."

"Depends," he replied in a low, raspy voice as our bodies drifted back up from the floor, "Are you saying yes?"

I was completely aware of the fact that he was requiring a verbal acknowledgement from me yet again, but this time, I didn't hesitate before answering, "I am."

"Well then," he whispered against the side of my face, "I no longer feel like a creep doing this." Then his lips played with the edge of my ear, nipping slightly at the lobe before trailing their way along my jaw line. He placed soft butterfly kisses along the skin where my neck met with my face and teased the pulse point with his tongue, resulting in tingles shooting through all the right places of my body. Then his lips finally dragged their way up towards mine.

They didn't press harshly like I'd expected after our built-up tension. Instead they hovered just beyond my touch, executing a form of restraint I felt incapable of reciprocating at the moment. And when I inched my face forward to make contact, Damon moved his lips ever so slightly open so that his tongue could glide along the surface of mine. At the touch, my lips parted responsively, eager to allow him entry, but then two things happened simultaneously.

The music transitioned into another set of beats and I felt Damon's hand reach up to take hold of my wrist as he whipped me out into a spin. I twirled out, elegant and fast, before he twirled me back in. And when my hand settled over his heart to steady myself, we'd already started to sway to the rhythm of the new song.

Still, I wasn't nearly finished with what we started and I lifted my face up towards his to ask seductively, "Is that all I get?"

"For now," he answered in a deep voice, my own disappointment nowhere to be found in the reflection of his eyes. Instead they were simply a few shades darker beneath his heavy lines of lashes, obvious signs that he was just as turned on as I was. Then his fingertips feathered the skin of my cheek and I instinctively leaned into his palm. There was nothing quite like the sensation I got when his flesh was against my flesh and I knew I was in way over my head.

Miraculously though, I felt no fear, no worries about the state of my heart. I only felt desire, because as he once again spun me out and back against his chest, the next words that left his lips held hope I could hold on to. And those words were, "But you never know what can happen tomorrow."

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review. :)<strong>_

**Just in case any of you aren't familiar with it, the song used in this chapter was**_** Rihanna – We Found Love.**_

_Follow me on Twitter and Tumblr morvamp _


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you so much for all of your reviews for the last chapter! They were all so incredibly nice and positive that I really can't thank you enough. Also, big thanks to my friend **_**bibi 13ca**_** for looking over this.**

**This chapter is dedicated to **_**jaybunzy0**_** for all of her free pimpin'. ;)**

_**Hope you guys like it.**_

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><p>This couldn't be right. There was no way in hell Damon lived <em>here<em>.

My car was idling in the circle driveway of a house that appeared to have been built in the early 1900s and it was big enough to accommodate at least 20 people. It was located about two miles from any main road, lined completely by forest, and its dark siding seemed to get lost in the evening sky. All in all, the placed looked like the perfect location for a serial killer flick.

Just to make sure, I quickly glanced at my GPS and compared it to the address Damon had texted me, only to find I was indeed at the right house. And after a quick shake of my head, I threw open my car door and stepped outside.

The night air swept through my hair as my hands ran their way down the back of my sundress in an attempt to straighten the fabric. It wouldn't have necessarily been my first choice, but my skin was still in a delicate state after the night before and the coral dress was the only one that accentuated my curves and cut-off at an optimum length while still being loose enough to feel comfortable. Point being, it was the only garment I had that didn't constrict the skin that still felt stretched too tight over my nerve endings.

Truth was, I hadn't slept much the night before. My body hadn't left its overexcited tizzy since Damon got it all hot and bothered without offering it any release and my mind hadn't stopped playing continuation scenes that would hopefully happen tonight. All in all, I felt like a shaken bottle of champagne, one that desperately needed its cork popped, and hopefully Damon would be happy to oblige. He _had_ invited me to his house, after all.

That reassuring thought was what I focused on as Damon opened the front door.

"Evening," he seemed to purr from his position against the banister of the front door. He was dressed from head to toe in all black again, not like I was surprised. What did surprise me was the way he seemed to effortlessly resemble a Versace model with the nonchalant pose he'd taken against the doorframe. It hardly seemed fair that someone who looked like him should be allowed to have enough money to afford a place like this.

"This is your house?" I asked in disbelief.

His brows and irises drifted toward his hairline as he answered, "Well, I'm standing in the doorway inviting you in aren't I?" He then extended his hand backwards, inviting me to breach the inside.

I followed the instruction, unable to mutter a single word as my eyes roamed over the interior of the house. They swept their way over the dark wood walls, crimson carpets, high banisters and antique chandeliers as I took a few steps around the place.

"It's just…" I started.

"Extravagant? Unnecessary? Intimidating?" Damon finished.

"Surprising," I corrected after releasing a deep breath of air.

"Surprising?" he questioned through knitted brows.

I shrugged my shoulder innocently and explained, "I wasn't expecting you and Tyler to be living in a place like this."

The sides of Damon's lips lifted into a crooked grin when his eyes narrowed in my direction. "Well, what were you envisioning?"

"Maybe a shitty apartment with plastic crates as furniture," I admitted. I knew he'd already confessed that he had money, but seriously… this place was fit for a freaking king. "I mean, you _are_ two guys and I certainly wasn't expecting Victorian rugs."

Damon's eyes followed the path of mine down towards the expensive flooring choice before he released a chuckle. "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's a little kitschy for my taste."

"Then why haven't you redecorated?" I asked through a laugh; suddenly feel much more comfortable that Damon's design choice didn't resemble that of an 80 year old woman's.

"Honestly," he replied with a shrug, "Because my mom was the one who picked out everything in here."

"Oh," I replied, compassion seeping through every limb of my body. "Now I understand."

He took a step towards me, swept a strand of hair behind my ear, and softly agreed, "Yes, you do." His eyes lingered on my face as his fingertips slowly slipped down the curve of my neck. The simple contact and acknowledgement of our similar pasts had my head leaning slightly in the direction of his hand. Responsively, Damon's eyes seemed to glow at the motion before a smile slid across his lips and he suggested, "But come on, dinners ready."

Although the larger part of me wanted to simply ignore the promise of dinner and skip ahead to my introduction of other rooms in the house, specifically one room in particular, I instead found myself led into the kitchen.

As I entered the new room and breathed in the aroma of what Damon had cooking on the stove, every ounce of disappointment I'd previously had about dinner seemed to dissipate. Herbs and spices attacked my sense of smell as he pulled out a chair for me at the kitchen table. A white tablecloth had been thrown over top and a single candle rested beneath expensive looking china.

The once-upon-a-time romantic in me seemed to swell at the effort he'd put into this dinner while the reformed, protected me couldn't help but notice my inside's twisting. It was fair to say that a full on battle was in effect over which version of myself would win out. But when Damon's hand swept across my back as he left my side and stepped over towards the stove, I felt the first flaps of wings against the lining of my stomach. Yep, the butterflies had appeared and I couldn't deny how impressed I was over the whole charade.

"What are we having?" I questioned in an attempt to get my mind anywhere from the position it was currently in.

"Spaghetti Aglio e Olio," he answered with his back to me, pouring the noodles into a strainer in the sink.

"What the heck is that?" I asked, desperate for some clarification. I wasn't a picky eater by nature, but I still liked to know the food that entered my system.

"An old family recipe," Damon vaguely responded as he reached into a cupboard to pull out a container of some red spice, tugging the base of his shirt up just slightly enough to reveal a sliver of skin above the top of his jeans. He'd retrieved the container much too quickly for my eyes to fixate completely on the flash of flesh, but not too fast to miss the defining lines, paralleling his spine, that disappeared beneath his belt.

I was still dealing with the aftershocks of that image when Damon stepped back towards the table and dripped noodles onto my plate. The steam danced through the air and into my airways as he explained, "I spent the past three hours slaving over this, so it better be good."

He sprinkled a few pieces of dried chili pepper over the noodles and shot me a pleased smirk that begged for a quip in response. Ultimately, I gave in. "Oh please, I'm sure you just ordered it from _Pasta Shack_ and threw it into a pot to impress me."

Damon chuckled at my dig, but otherwise appeared unoffended as he took his seat in front of me. "I'm Italian, Elena, of course I made it. It might come as a shock, but I'm an excellent cook," he declared before his head cocked to the side and he leaned slightly forward. "Although, I have to admit one thing."

"And what is that?" I questioned, mimicking his actions.

He sighed dramatically and offered, "It only took me about a half hour to make," before a huge grin permeated his face.

I released a laugh, feeling completely comfortable and yet highly electrified in his presence, and teased, "I knew you were just trying to impress me."

He flicked his brows and with the grin still intact, he asked, "And did it work?"

"Let me see." I then twirled a few ribbons of noodle around my fork and lifted them to my mouth. The sauce was light and not at all what I'd been expecting. Spices and zest attacked my tongue as I chewed the noodles between my teeth. And when I finally swallowed, my head was nodding up and down, my eyes were open wide in amazement, and I admitted, "Alright, I'm a little impressed. I can't believe you made this."

"Classic Italian," he declared confidently. "I knew you'd love it. But it tastes even better with wine. I have a few bottles over here if you want any."

But I shook my head. The last thing I needed was alcohol thinning the blood that was already gushing through my veins and tantalizing the delicate skin covering them. Unfortunately, for the state of my sanity, water was just going to have to do.

"So, you're Italian?" I stated as he took his first bite of pasta. "What else don't I know about you?"

He finished chewing before he pointed his fork in my direction and countered, "If I remember correctly, we had an entire day dedicated to learning about me. I'd say it's your turn."

"And if _I_ remember correctly, you promised not to ask me any questions about myself," I retorted.

But he shook his head and reminded, "That rule was only in effect for that particular day."

His eyes were narrowed and directed straight towards mine, while his challenge hung in the air. I could feel my pulse start to accelerate under the pressure and desperately needed to change the subject. "How did you manage to get Tyler out of this place for the night?"

Luckily, the simple question seemed to derail Damon from his mission of cracking me open because, at the words, Damon's lids retracted to their normal state. "Oh, I was supposed to get him out of here all night? That's a little optimistic don't you think?"

Immediately, I found myself on the defense. "I wasn't saying it because I plan on spending the night…"

But he laughed as I felt the embarrassing heat flood beneath my cheeks and said, "Relax, I was just messing around. He's staying the night at Caroline's." And as he lowered to take another bite of pasta, I caught his irises briefly drift up to catch the sight of my face at his comment.

My body seemed to simultaneously relax and tense all in one second. I could feel the blood pumping through my system, making its way through every individual vein in my body and I took a deep breath. It did little to ease the overactive thoughts shooting throughout my mind because if I hadn't been mistaken, Damon had just insisted we had the house to ourselves… for the entire evening.

"But I'm not that easy to distract, Elena," Damon declared in an octave lower than before, pulling me back to the conversation.

"Whatever do you mean?" I asked innocently.

"You," he simply stated. "It's time to get to know you."

This guy was relentless and if the mere sight of him didn't have my insides swooning in lust, I would have headed for the door a long time ago. I'd known from the second I caught sight of him that he was dangerous, but I never expected it to transition this far. His appeal had already resulted in the breaking of two rules, but this one was where I had to draw the line. This rule was cardinal rule number 1: no divulging information about myself. It led to emotions and emotions led down dirty, nasty roads.

So I lifted my chin defiantly into the air, and countered, "And what if I don't want you to get to know me?" before I slammed a fork full of pasta into my mouth.

"I see the ice queen's returned," he remarked with a roll of his eyes. "Well then, that's your choice and I wouldn't push you by asking why. But I can tell you that sometimes it's nice getting things off your chest. Letting people in isn't as bad an option as you might think."

"I don't have anything to get off of my chest," I clipped.

"Maybe you don't," he said in that matter-of-fact way that suggested he didn't believe it. "I'm just saying, I'm here if you ever do."

"Thank you," I muttered into my plate, understanding full well I'd never take him up on his offer.

Then his hand extended out to gently take hold of my chin. And when he forced me to look up in his direction, I noticed the familiar warmth swimming in his eyes and the signature smirk in place as he insisted, "However, I think you might find it rather refreshing dipping your feet into the water."

"Refreshing?" I repeated, by no means sharing his opinion, as a reminder of our first full day together floated through my brain.

His face inched forward ever so slightly as his fingertips lowered to run the length of my arm. Goosebumps were forced to the surface as he urged, "C'mon, Elena, don't you want to tip toe your way through the shallow end with me?"

Every hair fiber on my body was standing up straight, just from the simple touch of his fingers and the velvety smooth delivery of his line. He had a way of turning phrases into impeccably inviting offers; ones that I traditionally had the better judgment to decline. Waves of opposition rolled between my thighs, begging me to cave in, but with the last bit of strength I had left, I opposed softly, "Not if it requires me eventually getting to the deep end."

The vulnerability had been present in the shaky state of my voice, but Damon chose to ignore it and instead proposed, "What if I offer up just the kiddie pool? No deep end required."

"And that's it?" I asked skeptically, wondering what it was about Damon that seemed to latch onto my heartstrings and pull them just hard enough to ignore every rational thought in my mind. All it required was one deep gaze into the mesmerizing pools of his eyes or the rich tone of his voice to result in breaking each and every one of my previously well-established and executed rules.

"That's it," he assured as his fingertips glided along the soft skin of my forearm.

"Why is something as simple as my favorite color so important to you?" I questioned after Damon's hand retracted back to his side of the table.

There was a long pause as Damon contemplated his answer, before he finally answered softly, "I don't know." His eyes were directed on his plate instead of me and I couldn't help but consider they'd been spoken more to himself than me.

I realized then that Damon's answer had been the truth, the same thing he always supplied. It didn't matter how deep the question was, he never failed to be honest. And I sighed, a long deep sigh because I knew exactly what I was going to say and couldn't believe that I was. I'd come here today to start the same type of relationship I had been for the past 3 years: a strictly physical one, and now I was about to deliver cherished information about myself. I hated it, but figured that if I just answered a few simple questions for him, then I'd ultimately get what I wanted out of the night.

"Fine, I'll answer a few questions."

"It won't be too many and I promise to keep them easy, just enough to break the surface."

"Just not too far," I practically pleaded, my breath barely above a whisper. I was scared, as a matter of fact, I was fucking terrified.

But his hand swept out and the simple contact was all I needed for my racing heart to relax. Funny how all it took was that tiny gesture to feel comfortable again.

Then he assured, "I won't take it too far, I promise."

* * *

><p>"<em>Are You Afraid of the Dark<em> used to scare you?" Damon asked as best he could through a thunderous round of laughs.

"First off, give me some credit, I was only eight and it came on right before I went to bed." I tried my best to keep my serious expression intact, but failed miserably as a vivacious giggle escaped through my lips.

I couldn't believe that forty five minutes later I was still here with Damon, talking about myself of all things, but apparently I couldn't stop. Somewhere since the start of our conversation I'd found the very art of letting someone in to be, well, refreshing. The very adjective that Damon previously used had started feeling entirely accurate.

We hadn't drifted anywhere besides my comfort zone, or as Damon liked to refer to it - the kiddie pool, but simple bits of information had been enough to start some of the most random and hilarious conversations I'd ever taken part in.

When my previous laughter finally subsided, I threw my pointer finger in his direction and admitted, "Plus, that clown episode was fucking terrifying and you know it!"

"But it came on Nickelodeon," he argued, still doing his best to make his words decipherable amongst his judging laughter.

"I don't care what network it came one, the show was horrifying," I spat out, shaking my head through the air to remove the image of the clown that haunted my nightmares for weeks as a child. "And I especially don't believe you," I accused, "I bet it scared you too."

"Hardly," Damon chastised as one last booming laugh came from his throat. A sly smirk sliced its way across his lips, counteracting the adoration shining from his eyes as he admitted, "Although, I find it adorable that it scared you."

And there they were again, the damn butterflies I'd been fighting off all evening. There was just something about the word adorable that managed to get my insides all riled up. They were frantically flapping around, evoking all sorts of sensations from my tummy, when I rolled my eyes.

"Alright," I declared. "Can we move on to a different topic now? I think my mortifying childhood has been ridiculed enough for one evening."

"I'd have to disagree, but if that's what you want…" he started.

"And I do," I supplied.

"Then we can move on to dessert," he finished.

"You made dessert too?" I wasn't sure my hyperactive stomach could handle any type of food at the moment, even if it held the promise of something sweet. "How long did you slave over that?"

He flicked his brows towards the ceiling before he lifted himself from the chair and made his way over to the kitchen counter. "Actually, I didn't. I picked it up from Becky's bakery," he admitted as he pulled out a tray of cupcakes previously hidden inside of the microwave.

My eyes narrowed playfully and as I stood from the table and made my over to his side, I quipped, "Consider me no longer impressed by your effort then."

"You might want to watch your tongue," he reprimanded through lips curved into a smile. "You see, I've been assured these cupcakes have fist-sized chunks of Oreo in them."

I had to admit, fist-sized chunks of Oreos certainly had my interest peaking. "And what kind of cupcakes are they?" I asked cheekily.

His face took on a forced serious nature, hard lines and rigid edges, as he answered. "Cookies & Cream Gourmet cupcakes, naturally."

"Naturally," I justified, trying my best to imitate the severe nature of this faux important conversation.

"Want a bite?" he purred, his eyes sparking dangerously and never deviating from mine as his fingers dove into the cake of the desert in his hand. They escaped with a petite mixture of icing and chocolate cake and slowly lifted towards my face.

I swallowed hard as his fingers edged closer to my lips, trying my best to keep my frantic heart from leaping right through my chest. And when the soft cream of the icing touched the surface of my lips, I succumbed, "Alright, but only cause I'm a sucker for Oreos."

"Who isn't?" he teased as my lips parted and his fingertips breached the entrance of my mouth. He placed the piece of cake onto my tongue, the end curling upwards and around the moist desert, pulling it towards the back of my throat. His fingers lingered just long enough for my lips to close around the tips before they pulled back and came in contact with his own lips.

His pink tongue momentarily appeared as it reached out and licked the cake residue from his fingers. My lips pursed at the taste of sugar in my mouth and the delicious show Damon was performing. The cake seemed to just dissolve against my tongue and my center throbbed at the sight of his now glistening lips, alerting me that it had clearly had enough. My skin was crawling from irritation and in one brief instinctive second, I decided that if I was going to break my rules for Damon, I might as well make it count. I'd opened up, not fully but somewhat, and if I'd already taken that step, then I might as well break the simple rule of making the first move.

So in one quick movement, my hand extended around the back of his neck and I pulled him towards me. His lips finally landed on mine; alleviating some of the painful, built up tension that had started to develop the night before during our dance. And this time, his lips weren't soft or gentle as they responded to the act. They crashed against mine with a force only capable when derived from passion.

And I felt it, _everywhere_.

My toes curled inwards as his tongue ran its way along the creases of my lips. And when they eagerly parted to allow him entry, his hands wrapped around the back of my thighs so he could lift me onto the counter. One of his hands found its way to the nape of my neck, pulling me further into him while the other raked the skin of my outer thigh. The hem of my dress was pushed further towards my panty line as his tongue dove inside the warm cavern of my mouth.

Our tongues glided together, finally finishing the dance we'd started the night before as my legs wrapped around his torso. I could feel him against my center and let out a moan at the mere thought of where this was finally headed. Our hearts slammed together beneath the thin fabrics of our clothes and I scrapped my hand along his back, desperate to feel more than fabric. I wanted skin; I wanted to feel _his_ skin. But I never got it because, all too soon, breathing became a necessity and he pulled back.

I lowered my teeth into his bottom lip as he did; begging for him to take the necessary breath and collide back into me, but instead his hand reached up to cup the side of my cheek. His head tilted so his forehead rested against mine and when I opened my eyes, his were still closed.

His breathing was just as jagged as mine, dancing along my lips and tantalizing them to an excruciating level. I couldn't stand it. The need to continue what we'd started had my insides twisting and it was because of that that I released a frustrated sigh and asked, "How the hell do you keep resisting me?"

"Very painfully," he admitted through a forced chuckle and the agony on his face only revealed how true the statement was. "Parading around in those dresses of yours isn't exactly making it easy."

"But why?" I shouted, practically shaking him for an answer. I was done being polite, I was done following rules and I sure the hell was done putting this off any longer.

His eyes finally opened then and somehow they were both brighter and darker at the same time. He took a deep breath, I guess to calm himself down, before his smirk crept over his lips. "Because you deserve to be wooed before we do this. You're guarded for a reason and I don't want to add to that."

My mouth fell slightly ajar and I wasn't sure if it was because he'd just halted sex for the reason he had or because he'd used the term wooed.

"I don't need to be wooed. All I need is this," I tried to reason as my hands reached back to pull him towards me again.

But his lips stopped right before they made contact with mine. Clearly, he was stronger than me. "All girls like to be wooed, trust me."

How the hell was it possible that the one girl who didn't want a perfect guy had found _the_ single one on the planet? I didn't understand how it was. All I wanted was a physical relationship and most guys would have been eager to oblige and yet, I'd found myself the one that wanted to romance me. Fate was a double-edged bastard "Not this girl, trust me."

"Really?" Damon questioned, his eyes exposing the fact that he was halfway enticed by the idea and halfway skeptical.

"Really," I repeated in frustration, more than eager for his fingers to continue moving up my thigh the way they had been.

"Fine," he declared before placing both hands around my waist and lifting me from the countertop. "Then we're doing this my way."

"Fine," I succumbed because honestly I couldn't care less which way we did this. Hell, I'd take it any way he gave it to me at this point.

Then his lips finally crashed back against mine as my feet intertwined themselves behind his waist. I could feel the rush of air against my back as he maneuvered me throughout the house, but could only focus of the sleek texture of his tongue running against my own. One of his hands had relocated itself beneath my ass, offering me support while the other gripped into my back. His fingertips dug through the fabric and into my skin just as I was placed onto, what I assumed, was his bed.

The soft feathers of his comforter molded around the sides of my body as he broke contact once again. I let out a groan just before his fingers landed on the strap of my heel. He slowly, painfully slowly, undid the strap of my first shoe and let it tumble to the ground before making his way to the other. When that one also fell to the floor, I lifted myself into a seated position and pressed my lips back against his.

Never breaking fusion, his hands slid their way up my sleek legs and under my sundress, pulling it up over my hipbones and to my waist. I momentarily pulled away just long enough for Damon to slide the fabric over my arms and toss it to the floor. Then I fell to the mattress, desperately tugging at his belt to get him to follow. But instead his eyes sparkled a perilous shade of sapphire and a smirk slipped up his lips.

And as he slid to the base of my bed and started to kiss my ankle, I shot upright and asked, "What are you doing?"

"You agreed to doing things my way," he answered smugly.

Yeah, because I hadn't expected his way to involve anymore foreplay. I wasn't a fan of the whole _let's explore your body_ section of sex. I much preferred getting right down to the main event. Plus I was already as slick as I could possibly get. No more preparation was necessary.

So, I refuted, "Damon, I can't stand anymore build-up."

"Relax," he whispered against my skin. "Just enjoy the ride."

Damon then started to place languid kisses up the side of my calf, resulting in a tremble rocketing straight up my spine.

"The last time you said that to me, I ended up on your motorcycle," I retorted as his lips trailed their way to the sensitive portion of skin behind my kneecap. Goosebumps spread across every surface of my skin as my arousal continued to pool in my core.

"And you enjoyed _that_ ride didn't you?" he questioned seductively. His eyes never lifted to make contact with mine, but I could feel his smirk along my skin.

He had a point there, one I couldn't refuse, so I did the only thing I was capable of doing at the moment: I let my head fall back onto the pillow without muttering another word. Instead, I licked my lips as his started trailing their way up the center of my thigh. Damon made sure to cover every inch of my skin on his path towards my anticipating center. Every few kisses, his warm tongue would dart out to graze along my sensitive flesh.

My pulse was racing and he hadn't even reached his desired location. His tongue was making soft circles against the creamy white skin of my thigh and I was damn sure he'd just added a new meaning to the words expertly kissed. It certainly felt that way as he trailed his way north over skin that felt stretched entirely too tight over my veins. Every inch was begging for more contact; contact he was masterfully limiting, and my center was pulsating with hunger.

When he finally reached the apex of my thigh, I let out a relieving sigh. His fingertips grazed the section of skin just above my panty line as he slowly peeled the fabric away, leaving me bare and eager for his attention. But all I received was the brush of his breath against my folds.

I gripped the comforter of his bed and wondered how much more of this my body was going to be able to take. My hips bucked forward, raring for his touch, and I heard him chuckle softly between the junction of my thighs. Every section of skin tingled in anticipation as my hands pulled on my hair and before I could help it, I screamed out, "Damnit, Damon, I can't take it anymore!"

It was the truth, I'd never been this consumed with pent up arousal in my life and the words, _I've got moves you've never seen before_, played in my head. I hadn't missed the sexual innuendo in the statement on the dance floor, but I'd assumed it meant once we got down to business; not building up to it.

My hips rose responsively, anxious for any form of contact, when his hands grabbed onto my thighs and gently forced me back onto the mattress. I heard another cocky chuckle come from between my legs before I felt the warmth of his tongue finally on me. It slivered between my folds and played with my entrance before making its way towards my clit.

As his lips encompassed my button of pleasure and started to suck, Damon curled a finger up inside me. My legs quivered against his face as he simultaneously worked magic on the inside and outside of my erogenous zone. Then I felt something solid brush against my clit, which I could only imagine were Damon's teeth. He minimized the space between them and bit down ever so slightly, shooting a jolt of pleasure straight up my spine.

A moan escaped my lips at the new form of pleasure and my hand clenched onto the comforter. Damon's teeth started to grind delicately back and forth, causing friction against the casing of my sensitive bundle and when my thigh muscles tightened, I knew I was seconds from release. My toes had just started to curl inward, but when I took a deep breath to prepare myself for the euphoric crash, Damon lifted himself from the bed.

I groaned at the immediate lack of contact, simultaneously loathing and craving Damon's touch. A sheen of sweat had developed along my neck and I frantically wiped it away. I'd just prepared myself to scream another objection when I caught sight of Damon removing his shirt.

His abs flexed as the fabric lifted over his head and my throat suddenly resembled the texture of sandpaper. His thin waist was more defined than any of the other guys I'd ever slept with. The perfection started at the bulge of his biceps, continuing over the perfectly defined pectoral muscles and ripple of abs before ending in a symmetrical v shape just above the waist of his low-slung jeans. There was a tiny trail of hair leading straight beneath his belt buckle that my eyes seemed incapable of peeling themselves from.

"How you holding up?" Damon smugly asked, forcing my eyes from their previous position and onto his.

"Barely," I whispered because frankly, it was the best I could do in my delicate state.

Then his zipper flipped down, followed by his pants and boxer-briefs as he made his way towards me. Damon's body lowered onto mine, hard muscle against smooth stomach, as his shaft played with my entrance. Every inch of me begged for his touch, when he reached over and grabbed a condom from the nightstand. It was on in the blink of an eye and as his lips lowered over mine and he slid inside of me, nothing could have prepared me for the feeling of finally having him inside my body.

He entered me all the way to the hilt, finally linking us in the way I'd been yearning for and if I'd allowed the moan of satisfaction to escape, I'm sure it would have rivaled that of a professional opera singers. But I feebly kept my composure and broke my mouth from Damon's to capture my bottom lip between my teeth. I bit down, hard, as his hips started grinding in slow masterful motions against mine.

Every stroke sent a tremble hurtling through my limbs as his lips lowered to the arch of my neck. His tongue left spirals of heat along my skin while he slid between my inner walls. My entire body was teetering that blissful edge, but Damon was moving just deliberately slowly enough to keep me from falling over. Where it took Elijah two months to learn these tricks, Damon seemed to already have them conquered and named as his own.

As he reached previously unknown spots inside of me, I released another pleasure-filled moan into the air. I was grasping and aching to reach my climax when Damon smirked against the side of my face. I arched my body up against his when he finally picked up the pace. My left leg was thrown over his arm as he slammed into me, hitting my special spot. And my eyes rolled back into my head when his lips fixed themselves back on mine.

His tongue danced along with mine as we met together, thrust for thrust, and before I knew it, my vision started to blink in and out. Passion crashed through me as I was catapulted from the room and into space. This time, as I finally received my release, I soared right through our solar system and into unchartered territories. I could see nothing; only feel the waves of satisfaction as they ripped through me, again and again and again. Indecipherably screaming Damon's name into his mouth, my walls clamped down around him and he came too.

Every inch of me felt satisfied and yet exhausted from the rollercoaster Damon had just put me through. And to say I'd just experienced the greatest orgasm of my life was the understatement of the year. My entire body was humming in pre-sex gratitude, blissfully unaware of anything in its surrounding. And it was because of that feeling that when he leaned down to place a kiss on my lips and asked if I wanted to spend the night, I nodded in confirmation. The last thing I wanted was to ever be separated from him again.

It wasn't until two hours later, when my body had finally drifted from its high and come back to reality, lying against a sleeping Damon as the proper small spoon I was, in the complete darkness of his bedroom, that I realized what had happened.

I thought about the rules I'd broken to get what I wanted and the type of sex we'd had. The way he'd kissed me when we came together and the way I'd felt during it. We hadn't just had sex or fucked, it had been something completely different; something _emotional_.

And as a result, I was comfortable now, in the intimate hold he had over me, naturally protected under the confinement of his arms. We were breathing in unison, both our chests expanding and contracting as one. And it was at that particular moment, that the fear hit me like a precise arrow aimed straight at my heart.

_I was getting treacherously close to feeling something for Damon; something besides just a physical attraction._

So I made the only move that felt safe. I stealthy slipped from underneath of his hold, grabbed my clothes from the floor, and ran like a bat out of hell.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review. :)<strong>_

**If any of you are unfamiliar with **_**Are You Afraid Of The Dark**_**… I feel very sorry for you. But no really, it's on YouTube if you want to check it out. The episode mentioned is called **_**The Tale of Laughing In The Dark**_**.**

_Follow me on Twitter and Tumblr: morvamp _


	9. Chapter 9

_**Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I swear I have the best reviewers because you all always leave such detailed, sweet responses to the chapters. It's amazing to read your reactions, connections, and opinions to the characters and you never fail to wow me. So, I know I've already said this, but thank you so much!**_

**Also, as a side note: Happy Early Birthday, **_**NelenaCalden**_**!**

**Hope you guys like it.**

* * *

><p>A melody made its way through my ears and into my conscious the following morning. I fought to keep my eyes closed through the unfamiliar tune, but as it pulled me further from my slumber, I realized it wasn't incessant beeping from my alarm clock or a song from my IPod. Instead it was someone humming.<p>

My eyes sprung open to reveal Damon sitting in my window cubby. He looked perfectly at ease with his legs scrunched into the tight space and my copy of Pride and Prejudice between his hands. The book was blocking the sight of his eyes, but it did little to muffle the sound of his confusingly cheerful tune.

"Damon," I cried out, clutching onto the comforter and pulling it under my chin. My heart was beating frantically at the sight of him in my bedroom, but not for the reason I'd become accustomed to. He'd simply startled me.

After bolting on him last night, I hardly expected to see him so soon and if I was honest with myself, I wasn't at all prepared for this encounter. I hadn't even had one second to formulate a good reason for my sudden departure. And now I was stuck cornered in my pajamas by the very man I'd run away from. But the worst part was - my mind couldn't figure out if it was more nervous at his upcoming reaction, confused over the fact that he seemed so jovial, or excited that he cared enough to show up.

"How did you get in here?" I finally asked after he made no move at the sound of my first line. His attention was still directed on the written lines of the book, but at least he'd stopped that ridiculous humming nonsense.

"You're aunt let me in," he simply replied, never peeling his eyes from the riveting paragraph he was reading or pretending to read.

My mouth fell slightly open and I was still trying to wrap my head around the concept that Damon was here - in my bedroom, reading one of my books, after last night.

"Jenna let you come into my room while I was still sleeping?" I questioned skeptically.

"Well, unlike someone," he said with a quick flip of the page, "your aunt doesn't see the problem with the two of us being in the same room together."

And there it was; his first dig of the morning. I should have been expecting it and as a matter of fact, I had been. But that didn't mean my defenses didn't responsively go up. "I don't have a problem being in the same room with you, Damon."

"Is that why I woke up this morning to a cold pillow instead of you?" he questioned, wrapping the perfect amount of nonchalance around his heated accusation.

"No, it's just," I started, trying to find a suitable lie to save me from addressing the real reason I sprinted from his bedroom at 2 o'clock in the morning. In my flustered state, all I was able to conjure up was, "Your bed was uncomfortable."

"I have 1500 count Egyptian sheets," he lightly argued as his eyes drifted from the left to the right page of my tattered paper back. "You're gonna have to do better than that."

I hated that his eyes had yet to make contact with mine. I knew I shouldn't have because the power they held over me was undeniable, but right now we felt disconnected. It was preposterous how much that detachment affected me, but apparently his passive-aggressive way of pointing out that I'd made a mistake was clearly working and I didn't like it one bit. I'd made the choice to bolt for a reason and I just needed to keep reminding myself of that.

So, I rolled my eyes, pulled down the covers, and retorted, "Well, I don't know what you want me to say."

He let my statement linger long enough between us to saturate the entire contents of the room. And without lifting his eyes to meet mine, he proclaimed, "You know, usually it's the girl that needs to worry about being run out on after sex, not the guy."

The betrayal in his voice had been hidden under a fair level of disinterest, but not enough to be missed. I could feel it in the diction and meaning of his words; he was disappointed and perhaps even a little hurt. After the revelation I'd had last night and the choice I'd made because of it, his emotions shouldn't have had an influence on mine, but they did. I still cared.

"I didn't run out on you," I declared softly.

"Again," he replied in the same detached tone, "cold pillow – no you. I'd qualify that as you running out on me."

"And again," I stressed, wondering how long he was going to stretch this conversation out before finally giving up on me like he should have done first thing this morning. "I don't know what you want me to say. I simply wanted to sleep in my own bed."

"You see, I don't buy that," he remarked with a quick snap of the book. "Now, we both know it has nothing to do with the fact that you didn't enjoy yourself either." Then his eyes finally locked onto mine as Damon set the book down and insisted, "So why don't we skip through all of the BS and get right down to the issue at hand."

It appeared he'd finally gotten fed up with his initial attempt and jumped right to the interrogation portion of the morning. He hadn't moved from his original position, but I could feel the heat of his spotlight on my face. The dark blue swirling around his eyes was as unfamiliar as the tone of his voice and as a result, I locked my shoulders into place and challenged, "That being?"

"Why does the concept of you and me scare you so much that you had to run?" he sternly asked.

His capability of understanding my motives was like a punch to the chest, especially considering he'd just called me out on them. But after a moment's hesitation, I snarkily responded, "First off, you don't scare me." I then ran a hand through my hair as I continued, "And secondly, Damon, it's too early in the morning to get into this."

I knew the second justification hadn't entirely been the truth. In all actuality, the time had nothing to do with it. I _never_ wanted to have this conversation. We were both supposed to accept that what we'd shared was one absurdly fantastic night in the sack and leave it at that. Therefor I wouldn't have to deal with the feelings currently banging around in my chest or the heat developing in certain locations of my body. But Damon showing up this morning was making it fucking impossible.

"First off, it's a little after 12 and that technically counts as the afternoon," he retorted, using the same tone I'd just held. "And secondly, you're right. _ I_, personally don't scare you, but the thought of you and me together does." Then he inched his face forward and despite the distance still residing between us, he felt entirely too close. "Why?" he demanded.

His directness was making me uneasy. I was used to the reasonable Damon; the one that simply sat back with a smirk on his lips and let me drown in my own uncertainty. Not the one who demanded answers upfront. So I countered back, "Why are you being so pushy about this?"

"And why are you deflecting?" he demanded.

"I'm not," I argued, feeling my frustration threatening to spill over like warm liquid from a volcano. "I just don't understand why it's so important to you that I justify why I crept out of your bed last night!"

At that, he released a heavy sigh and relaxed the rigid set of his shoulders. His eyes slowly drifted their way throughout the contents of my room before once again focusing in on me. The intensity of his voice faded, leaving only the smooth sound I'd become familiar with as he pointed out, "You realize this is the third time you've asked me why something involving you is important to me, right?"

"Yeah, so," I questioned defensively, by no means lowering my voice to the rational level of his.

"Well, I think the answer to that question is fairly obvious by now. I like you," he insisted. Both of his hands lifted into the air, sweeping their way through the bull shit that had been spewed between us so far this morning, as he declared, "And I'm not an idiot, Elena, you feel the same way."

The simple term of 'like' had my heart fluttering like an obsessed twelve year old. And if anything, it was a reminder of why I'd run from him in the first place. He claimed one dangerous hold over my desires and it was simply too much dominance for comfort.

So I jutted my hand into the air and reasoned, "But see, that's the problem, Damon, right there."

"What? That you're actually interested in someone?" he scoffed.

"No," I lied before the guilt finally breached the back of my throat and forced a tiny portion of the truth to escape. "It's that you're looking for something more serious than I am." It was impossible to deny how tempting the concept of a serious relationship with Damon truly was, but I'd already been there and done that. The first time didn't end well and honestly, the reassurance of controlling and limiting my own emotions was even more inviting.

An amused grin spread over his lips at my accusation before a small chuckle escaped through his teeth. "Elena, I'm not getting down on one knee and asking you to spend the rest of your life with me."

"I know that," I scoffed. I wasn't an idiot. "But you're looking for something serious, and I'm just… well, I'm not."

"And what makes you think that?" he asked through narrowed lids.

_The fact that ever since I stepped foot back in this town, you've been interested in me. The fact that you push through my barriers. The fact that you share a past similar to mine and that you want to help me work through my issues revolving around that very past. The fact that you want to woo me. The fact that I mattered enough for you to not give up on me and show up this morning. And the fact that whenever you look at me there's something other than just hunger in your eyes, there's a glimmer of something more._

"I have my reasons," I proclaimed with a slight cock of my head.

Damon sighed and closed his eyes, clearly disappointed in my vague answer. There was a long pause where the two of us sat in complete silence, supplying enough time for the tension in the room to dissipate, before he shook his head and made his way over to take a seat next to me. The lack of distance between us instantly caused an acceleration of my pulse and a few clouds of haze to develop in my mind. It was almost absurd how much of an effect his body had over mine, even without contact.

"You're too stubborn for your own good. You know that?" he finally asked after another stretch of long silence, all his previous steam from our argument apparently gone.

The shrug rippled through my shoulders as I responded evenly, "I've been called worse. And besides, you're too persistent for your own good."

He turned on me then, blasting me with the full effect of that mesmerizing blue and countered, "For my _own_ good or yours?"

"Both," I answered honestly because there was just something about the seductive shade of his irises that held the capability of ripping the truth from me. It was the reason I felt the need to add, "I'm just not someone you want to get involved with."

But then the corners of his lips lifted into a crooked smile and he refuted, "Why don't you let me be the judge of that?"

The backs of his fingers lifted to caress the side of my cheek and each subtle stroke had heat centralizing under the location. The simple touch sent a steady blaze over every surface of my body, but it also awoke the butterflies from last night. The sensation was alarming and yet calming at the same time and I felt my resistant shell start to crack, the same way it always seemed to in his presence.

Damon's eyes narrowed at my reaction to his touch before he finally let his fingers fall to rest on the comforter. He then took a deep break and said, "Elena, I'm not asking you for a long term commitment. Hell, I don't even know what college you go to. And for all I know, you could be driving across country at the end of the summer."

He then took my chin in the palm of his hand and insisted, "So, hear me out. I'm proposing this summer. You and me. Nothing serious; just having a little fun."

The evidence of my impulsive decision last night was still fluttering against the inside of my tummy. And I knew the consequences that could come from spending an entire summer with Damon. But it was impossible to resist him when his flesh was against my flesh, sparking a connection I'd denied myself for so long. Plus, there was no way I'd be able to last the remainder of summer without him; knowing the effects he had on my body and what he was capable of doing with it.

And besides, he'd just proposed the summer. He wasn't asking me for a long term commitment and he'd already put an end date to the relationship. He'd offered up my own three month rule and now I didn't have to worry about the difficult task of cutting the cord; he'd already done that for me.

So I captured my bottom lip beneath my teeth and peered up at him with the best enticing doe eyes I could produce and inquired, "And what exactly do you mean by fun?"

Damon's smirk permeated his face before his brows flicked up and down. Then he inched his face forward just close enough that his lips brushed against mine as he purred, "I think you know exactly what I mean."

The smooth delivery of his line sprouted goose bumps over my arm just as his lips melted into mine. His hand came to rest at the nape of my neck as he pulled me further into him and we fell against the mattress. Then his warm tongue darted between his teeth to play with the opening of my mouth and I parted my lips to allow him entry.

As usual, he tasted phenomenal, even sweeter than the Oreo cupcake he'd fed me the night before. And as his tongue slid against my own, my body arched upwards to press against his. My arousal was pooling in my core and for a brief second I just wanted to take him right then and there; in my aunt's house, with her and Ric completing their morning duties downstairs. Because that was the effect Damon's body had on me. I lost all control of rational thinking and instead it was superseded by lust.

But I painfully pushed my desires aside and closed my eyes, allowing my lips to linger on his just a moment longer before peeling them away slowly.

My skin was vibrating, insisting that it wasn't nearly finished with the act we'd started, but I ignored the side effect and got down to business. Because I could handle the physical effect of Damon's attraction, but the emotional effects, now those were a dangerous problem. If I was going to withstand his influence over me emotionally, I'd have to establish some rules. And since he'd already forced me to break a few of the originals, new ones were an absolute necessity.

I pushed my head further back into the down of my pillow, just far enough to lock contact with Damon's eyes to demand, "Alright, but if I agree to this, then there has to be some ground rules."

Damon released a small chuckle that spoke of nothing besides how ridiculous he thought my statement was before rolling over to rest beside me. He placed his cheek in the palm of his hand, forming the shape of triangle, and asked incredulously, "You're giving our relationship ground rules?"

"Yes," I replied indignantly. "First one is that we don't use cheesy names for each other. I don't want you calling me bunny or pumpkin or anything absurd like that."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, before retorting, "No calling you sweet cheeks." And with a wink and devilish grin he added, "Got it."

The laugh ripped through my too fast to withhold, but after a brief pause, I recomposed myself and declared, "Second, I don't want us becoming inseparable. I have friends and family that I like spending time with."

He nodded. "No ball and chain. Got it."

I rolled my eyes and continued, "Third, my friends and I get hit on, a lot. And just because a guy hits on me, doesn't mean that I'm gonna reciprocate."

He lifted his hands innocently into the air and insisted, "No clocking a guy for checking out your ass. Got it."

"Fourth, I like sexual relationships," I started.

But the same devilish smirk as before spread across his face as he rubbed his hands together and interrupted, "I can already tell that this is a rule I'll have absolutely no problem following."

"I wasn't finished," I reprimanded with a playful slap across his shoulder, causing him to burst into a round of laughter. "I like sexual relationships and that's strictly what I want us to have. So, no more asking me questions about myself."

He made no quip about this rule and instead just lifted his brows into the air. I didn't like the silence, especially considering this was the most important rule of them all, and found the need to stress its importance. "Are we clear?"

"Crystal," he remarked.

"Okay, good." Feeling satisfied, I let out a breath of air and asked, "Are there any rules you want to add?"

He raised his brows as his eyes popped wide open. There was a dramatic state of shock over every bit of his features as he teased, "Wait, I actually get a say in this?"

"Very funny," I scoffed with a roll of my eyes, "but of course you do."

"Fine," he said with a cocky smirk on his lips, inching forward to tip toe his fingers up the length of my thigh. "Then I have absolutely no problem resisting calling you sweetie," he purred in a sultry tone. The word sweetie rolled off of his tongue, instantly causing me to regret devising the rule altogether.

My legs instinctively parted as his two fingers continued to walk their way north. Heat was formulating in my core, begging for his touch in my sensitive location. But instead of stopping where they were craved the most, they inched their way up my stomach. "I'm alright with giving you your space if that's what you want."

His breath skimmed the entrance of my ear, forcing my eyes to roll into the back of my head. And as his fingers reached the peaks of my breasts, he whispered, "I'll resist defending your honor when some asshole makes a pass at you."

His fingers then reached my neck and slid around the side, capturing me in a firm grip as his lips connected with the skin on the other side. "And I'm completely okay with you crawling between my sheets each night as long as you're there in the morning," he purred between soft kisses.

Then his lips grazed their way along my jawline, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, to hover right against my own as he whispered, "However, I'm not gonna stop asking you questions about yourself."

"Then we're not going to happen," I answered breathily, wishing that it came out with more conviction than it really had.

"Oh, I think we are," he mused as his lips pushed slightly into mine, supplying me with a languid kiss that sucked any lingering oxygen from my lungs.

"Really?" I challenged after he pulled back and slipped his bottom lip against mine.

"Absolutely," he breathed into my mouth just as his hand started sliding down the curvature of my side. I could feel the conceited smirk of his own lips pressed against mine as he insisted seductively, "Because right now you're instinctively arching your back at my touch. You're legs quiver every time my fingertips graze closer towards your shorts. Your eyes drift closed whenever I exhale into the bow of your neck and you take a deep preparational breath each time I inch my lips closer to yours."

I felt every response he'd just pointed out happen at once and there was no denying now that Damon understood the authority he had over my reflexes. He was working every surface, caressing it in just the right way to spark my insides and make me ache for him.

And as his hand trailed south to play with the elastic of my panties, I sucked in a breath of air, desperate to maintain some control in this situation that had spiraled critically off course. Damon obviously heard my breath, because the confidence in his voice was a rich as ever as he declared, "As much as you want to deny what's going on between us, you can't. You want this just as badly as I do and when it comes to me or that tiny rule of yours, I'm always going to win out."

I was acutely aware that he was winning, but still completely defenseless when he played my body the way he was. I licked my bottom lip at the thought of his hand moving just a few inches lower, when I felt him pull back. I groaned at the lack of contact, the concept of being in Jenna's house no longer in my thoughts, as I opened my eyes and positioned my lips into a frown.

He was a few inches away now, still close enough to see the different flecks of blues in his eyes, but far enough away to inhale air instead of his very exhale. The cocky features of his previous expression and the smirk had vanished leaving only the sincere Damon I'd witnessed a few times.

Then the pad of his thumb swept out to feather the side of my cheek. It was the only contact he allowed at the moment, as if he was taking the precaution to make sure my physical reactions didn't overshadow the meaning of his next statement, before he proclaimed softly, "And besides, I've been where you are. It's hard to invest faith in others once someone's been taken away from you. I get that and I just want to make you see that there's people who won't necessarily let you down like you think they will."

He paused just long enough for my mind to briefly drift towards Stefan. I didn't like thinking about the guy who'd officially screwed me up, especially around the guy that wanted so desperately to fix me, but I couldn't help it. Stefan was the reason Damon and I were having this stand-off in the first place. All of my fears and all of my insecurities about men were a result of what he'd done to me.

But just as quickly as my mind drifted to Stefan, Damon pulled me back to him. He shook his head slowly and professed, "So insisting on getting to know you isn't a rule I can agree to." Then his free hand swept up and the other slid down to find my neck, pulling my chocolate locks against my face like a curtain, as he questioned, "But what do you say, Elena, are you and me going to happen? Or am I gonna walk out the door because of one simple rule?"

He'd successfully shut out everything else in the room. Stefan as well as all of my fears and insecurities were trapped outside leaving only the sight of Damon and the intensity behind the blue that held me captive. With him in this close of proximity, I was incapable of resisting his offer, even if it meant breaking my most important rule.

So I whispered, "I don't want you to leave," never pulling my eyes from his as Jenna screamed up the stairs, "I made waffles for breakfast if you want any. Damon, you're welcome to join us if you'd like."

A smirk slowly crept over his lips and I wasn't sure if it was because of my response or Jenna's interruption. Either way, it was cocky, breathtaking, and downright delectable. So I rolled my eyes and twisted my head to the side to scream, "Be down in a minute."

I then turned back to Damon and shook my head a few times to really let the events of the morning saturate my brain. I'd agreed to a relationship with the guy I'd run away from just last night. And even worse, I'd thrown away the most crucial rule behind keeping my heart protected. But as I looked at him now, feeling the electricity sparking from our connection, I couldn't remember why either of those things had originally mattered.

But most importantly, I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt the familiar chill of the reminder of my parent's death. Apparently, being around Damon had given me something else to focus on, something that didn't send me spiraling through sessions of tears.

So I embraced the warmth he supplied instead of the nostalgic chill, shot him one of my mastered adorable smiles and asked, "Do you want to stay for breakfast?"

His brows knitted on his forehead as he joked, "Are you sure that's not breaking rule number 2? I don't want to interrupt family time."

I laughed, pushing him away from me so I could lift myself from the bed, and quipped, "Just shut up and take what you can get."

Then he reached out and threw me over his shoulder, evoking a round of giggles from my throat as the blood rushed to my head. I squirmed against his hold, but was obviously no match against his strength. And with me dangling against his back, Damon maneuvered us out of my bedroom door and proclaimed, "Oh, I already have."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you two met when he was your professor in college," I spat out from my position on the picnic table out back. "I thought Damon was the only one you met there, but apparently you took quite an interest in your students, Ric."<p>

Jenna, Ric, Damon and I had already finished breakfast, but we were too deep in conversation to continue on with the remainders of our days just yet. What had started as friendly chit chat, quickly transitioned into Jenna grilling Damon and I about our relationship. Where we'd met, how long we'd known each other, had we been seeing each other since winter break; were all questions she'd attempted to cover.

But once Damon revealed the fact that I blew him off during our first encounter and the initial wave of heat flushed under my cheeks, I quickly maneuvered the conversation in a different direction; that direction being Ric and Jenna. I'd taken no interest in their relationship before and only vaguely held some now, but Jenna had been too flattered by my intrigue to question the topic change.

"It's why I made him switch to Mystic Falls High," Jenna explained with a roll of her eyes. "I couldn't risk him meeting someone else."

Ric, who had been surprisingly vocal this morning which I'm guessing had something to do with Damon's presence, released a deep laugh at our digs and challenged, "Who says I can't meet a nice teenager to replace you with."

"The law," Damon offered.

"Yeah, I guess you've got a point," Ric conceded, resulting in a sequence of laughter from both Jenna and myself, before he reached out to take her hand in his. "But you know no one can sway my eyes from you."

Jenna's cheeks ignited an enchanting shade of rose and for the first time I didn't feel the bile rise up in my tummy at the sight. That's because, after this morning, I couldn't ignore how natural our arrangement felt and I knew it had everything to do with how comfortable Ric seemed now that he wasn't conversing with strictly women. With Damon acting as the perfect buffer between his friend and the estrogen enriched side of the table, I actually got to know the real Ric. And the guy was pretty funny; not overly chatty, but insightful enough not to be a bore. He was easy to goad, didn't take offense to digs and held the confidence to reciprocate them.

Surprisingly, I found myself liking him, which rarely happened. But what was even more rare, was the fact that the four of us got along wonderfully and if the speakers of the sound system hadn't starting screeching out high pitched static instead of harmonizing tunes, I'm sure our conversation could have lasted straight into the evening hours.

But the speakers did blow, forcing Ric and Damon into repairman mode as they both examined different colored wires of the system. Jenna and I took that time to maneuver our way into the kitchen to wash the dishes.

With the boys out of hearing distance, I finished drying the plate in my hand and asked Jenna, "You knew exactly what you were doing when you let Damon into my room this morning, didn't you?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the edge of her mouth lift up into a satisfied smile as she insisted, "I always know what I'm doing, Elena."

She then turned on me and handed me a dripping dish. I took it and ran the cloth over the smooth surface before questioning, "But it had the potential to end badly and I could've been mad at you for days."

Jenna nodded in confirmation and countered, "But it didn't." Then the smile reappeared as she added, "And besides, it was worth the risk of you bringing me down in a wave of rage."

"Really?" I asked, incredulous. "You're that invested in my relationships?"

"No, I'm that invested in you," she corrected with a weak shake of her head. "Look, Damon's a good guy; one that I've had the pleasure of getting to know. And when it comes to you and relationships, honey, he may be exactly the type of guy you need."

I knew what she was insinuating, but had no desire to enter into that type of discussion with my aunt. She knew my rules, she knew about my dating life, and after this morning, she knew about the establishment of Damon and my relationship. That was where I drew the line; she didn't need to know anything else.

So I cocked my head to the side and joked, "One as stubborn as myself?"

"Well, I wasn't going to say it like that," she teased with a bump of her hip. She then handed me another dish before reclaiming the direction of the conversation. "But really, you two have a lot in common and you never know; he might be the one that gets past the 3 month cut-off."

There was a motherly glow shining from her eyes that spoke of the hope she held for Damon and me. Clearly, I didn't have the heart to tell my aunt that Damon and I had already established the end date for our relationship. So instead of offering up the truth, I simply shrugged and offered, "Maybe."

Jenna's lips parted, signifying we weren't finished our conversation when the guys stepped back into the kitchen, both sporting defeated expressions on their faces.

Jenna swiveled her head in their direction and assumed, "No luck?"

"The entire system's gone up," Ric explained, throwing his hands into the air. "Which means forking out another thousand bucks for a new one."

"Sweetie, if it's going to cost that much, I don't really think it's a luxury we need," Jenna reasoned in a rational tone.

The shade of Ric's cheeks transitioned from their natural pink into a fiery red and it was then I realized Damon and I were standing in the combat zone of a famous Jenna/Ric argument. I swerved my eyes over towards his, just as Damon motioned his head towards the front door. I nodded approvingly and as we exited the kitchen, I heard Ric argue, "Jenna, we use it every day!"

As we stepped into the entryway of the house, I turned to make my way up the stairs only to have Damon's hand latch onto my arm.

"I actually have to get going," he explained with an emphatic hand gesture towards the front door.

"What, you don't want to stay for the show?" I teased through a smile, just in time to hear Jenna insist, "Why don't we talk about this later when we're alone. We have all night to discuss our finances."

"It's getting a little too heated in here for me," he joked back before lowering his lips down beside my ear. "Although, if the screaming turns into a nightly affair, you can always stop by my place to finish what we started in your bedroom."

He pulled back to reveal the traditional smirk on his lips as he mocked, "Unless, seeing each other twice in one day is considered breaking rule number two again. If that's the case, I revoke my offer and you're just gonna have to suffer."

I rolled my eyes at his mockery of my rules before lifting myself onto my tippy toes and placing a kiss against his lips. It was short and sweet, but only because I had every intention of swinging by his house later to continue what we'd started earlier that morning.

Then I opened the door and stated, "I'll see you tonight," before he maneuvered his way outside.

I watched him walk down the front steps and approach his vehicle just as Jenna's voice came at my back.

"You want to know the reason I think he's going to be the one?"

I turned around with a confused expression on my face. First off, she was supposed to be fighting in the kitchen with Ric and secondly, how the hell did Damon go from being my boyfriend to being the one?

"It's the way he makes you smile," she mused from the kitchen doorway.

"I smile all of the time," I dismissed as my body turned back around to watch Damon drive down the street.

"I know. I'm just saying that, ever since you had to deal with what happened to your parents, I've seen you flash broken smile after broken smile and it wasn't until this afternoon that I got to see the real thing again. And it was only when you were laughing at him."

The meaning behind her words stuck to my surface, seeping their way through my conscious. But when I responsively turned around to dispute her accusation, she'd already disappeared; leaving me completely alone with only the weight of her statement.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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	10. Chapter 10

***Sorry for the multiple postings again. FF decided to give me all sorts of trouble this time around***

**I know I keep repeating myself, but I feel like it needs to be said. You guys are amazing and thank you so much for the reviews and support behind this story! A nasty bit of writer's block and some personal issues are to blame for my delay in updating this time around. Sorry about that, but I seemed to have gotten past the blockage and my fingers are crossed that it won't be returning.**

_**Hopefully it was worth the wait. **_

* * *

><p>The timer on the waffle iron dinged just as I reached into the fridge to pull out a tub of margarine.<p>

"Got it," Damon called out from his position at the sink behind me.

I closed the fridge door with the pad of my foot and turned around to see him already pulling the waffle from the iron with a fork. Maneuvering the tub between my side and arm, I made my way over to join him.

"Blueberry for you," he said cheerfully, placing a kiss against my forehead as he handed me the plate, "and regular for the rest of us."

I shot Damon an appreciative smile while he maneuvered the three remaining plates and container of syrup on his hands, using the skill he'd acquired years ago by working four months at the Red Lobster. He then made his way to the living room, shouting back, "Can you grab the silverware?" as he did.

I opened the third drawer to the left of the stove, grabbed four pairs of knives and forks before throwing them onto my plate. And after a moment of contemplation, I stepped across the room and pulled out a container of powdered sugar from the pantry. For being a guy's crib, I had to admit, this kitchen was stocked with enough materials to make a housewife cream her pants.

Damon and I had only been seeing each other for a little over a month, but I'd easily learned how to maneuver my way through his labyrinth of a house. Which once seemed overwhelming now felt natural as I grabbed my plate from the countertop and headed towards the living room.

Despite my initial protests of limiting our time together, I somehow found myself here most evenings, which led to most mornings. And as a result, I knew where every condiment was located in the kitchen, where the extra rolls of toilet paper were stored, and the temperature range that needed to be maintained on the thermostat to avoid a hissy fit from Tyler.

In all actuality, I knew Damon's house as well as I knew the one I grew up in. The only exception of this being Tyler's room. It was strictly Caroline/Tyler territory and half of their time was spent behind a closed door. The other half was spent hanging out with Damon and me in the living room, well when _we_ weren't satisfying ourselves behind _his_ closed door.

The place officially felt like college dorms all over again, except for the tiny rooms and conversing with people you pretend to like aspect. Instead it was just the four of us, our two couplings, and I had to admit, I was getting used to the arrangement.

"It's official," Caroline mumbled through a mouth full of waffles she'd apparently shoveled in with her fingers, "you're definitely dating the better roommate of the house."

"Hey," Tyler protested from his spot on the loveseat next to her.

A laugh ripped through me at both her comment and savage eating behavior before I took a seat beside Damon on the couch and handed her a pair of silverware. "Here, these might help."

"I mean," she continued in Tyler's direction as I handed him and Damon their pairs as well, "no offense, but Damon made her waffles. He even took the effort to add blueberries to_ just_ hers. You pour Captain Crunch into a bowl and push me in the direction of the fridge for milk. Then you wonder why I don't bend over backwards to jump your bones afterwards."

My eyes worked their way to the top of my lids as I poured powdered sugar onto my waffle because these little bickering moments had become routine. They were more playful than anything and more times than not, led to our friend's disappearance behind Tyler's door.

"Most mornings we eat cereal," I offered before sliding my cold bare feet under Damon's legs and lifting a sugar covered bite into my mouth.

But Caroline simply ignored the comment and scoffed playfully, "I need to be romanced."

"Damon's Italian, not romantic," Tyler argued.

"He's got a point and besides, it's not Tyler's fault he's a terrible cook," Damon reasoned, lifting his fork into the air for dramatic flair. "At least he has other endearing qualities to make up for it."

Caroline giggled to herself and mocked, "Yeah? And those are?"

Damon snorted and chewed the bite of waffle in his mouth before insisting, "I'm assuming there's a reason you stick with him and have no intention of discovering those particular qualities."

"Very funny," she muttered.

"But true," Tyler claimed in a tone lower than before, resulting in Caroline's full attention.

I took this brief moment to turn to Damon and roll my eyes, suppressing a laugh at the blonde's behavior. He repeated my action just as Caroline agreed, "True," with a grin and accepting nod that insisted it'd only be about five more minutes before we lost our friend's company. Alright, maybe they spent more than half of their time behind Tyler's door, but at least our morning's mini-crisis had been averted.

Still, I couldn't miss this prime opportunity to get Damon a little riled up because he was just too damn desirable when he got defensive. "You know, Caroline, you're really going to have to stop stroking Damon's ego," I reprimanded with a side smirk in Damon's direction. His eyes were narrowed in a death stare as I added, "It's already big enough to begin with."

"_My_ ego?" he asked incredulously, painting irritation which I'd learned to recognize as phony over his features. "If that's not the pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what is."

And before I had a chance to prepare myself, his plate was set onto the coffee table, a malicious leer slipped up his lips, and Damon launched himself at me. The full force of his weight crushed against my body as his fingers attacked the sides of my waist in a signature tickle fight. It was obvious I was no match for his strength, so instead of resisting, I instead focused my efforts on controlling the rolling waves of laughter emanating from my throat.

"Oh please," Caroline scoffed as I squirmed ruthlessly under Damon's hold, trying my best not to spill any powder sugar onto the floor. "Both of your egos are beyond control. But you're each stubborn enough to counter the other out, so it works." Damon's and my heads both twisted to shoot her challenging expressions, but before we got the opportunity to refute her seemingly innocent accusation, she'd already switched topics. "So what do you two have planned today?"

After one last squeeze and cocky eyebrow flick, Damon maneuvered himself back to his original side of the couch. He then reached forward to grab his half eaten plate of waffles and answered, "I have class in the afternoon."

Feeling safe in the assumption that our mini tickle battle was over, I released one last laugh at its abrupt end, and shoved my feet back under Damon's warm legs. I poked a piece of waffle with my fork and added, "And I'm going to be picking my classes for next semester this afternoon."

"Finally getting serious about our studies I see," Caroline mocked.

"No, I just figured that since it's my junior year, I should probably start figuring out what I want to do," I corrected between bites. "You know, not all of us had the luxury of realizing we wanted to go into showbiz in the fourth grade."

"That production of The Wizard of Oz _did_ change my life," Caroline mused as her eyes drifted towards the ceiling, apparently deep down memory lane. They then drifted back down to me as she questioned, "Are you still considering creative writing?"

"You wanted to be a writer?" Damon inquired.

These little moments, where information from my life was a necessity to offer up, had become pretty standard since Damon and I started seeing each other. At first, I'd always hesitate, uncertain if the sacrifice was worth maintaining our relationship, but now it just felt natural. Seeing as how it was his only rule, I really couldn't complain.

The tiny bits of information kept him satisfied and whenever he approached a topic that reached a bit too deep, I simply turned up my inner slut to distract him. He was a guy after all and even someone as persistent as Damon had difficulty maintaining a conversation when sex was thrown into the mix.

This question, like most, simply fell into the safe category. So I had no problem responding. "4 years ago I did, but I don't think so anymore. Lately, I've been considering marketing."

The answer seemed to impress Damon as he mused, "Interesting."

My cell then vibrated against the coffee table, nearly falling over the edge as it did. I reached forward and saw the text from Bonnie stating, "I'm running late. Meet you at the shop in 50 minutes."

Dread instantly crept up my spin. "Shit. Shit. Shit!" I shouted, whipping my legs from under Damon and practically throwing myself from the couch.

"What's wrong?" Damon asked as I slammed my plate onto the table.

"I forgot Jenna's dress fitting was today!" I answered as my eyes landed on the blood red numbers of the cable box.

11:30.

In the distance, I vaguely heard Caroline mutter, "Oh shit," but was already internally freaking out. I couldn't show up late to my aunt's dress fitting. I was the maid of honor for Christ's sake! All of the work I'd put into her bridal shower last week and every minute I'd spent helping Jenna prepare for this wedding wouldn't be able to save my ass if I wasn't there to witness her princess moment at the shop.

My mind instantly switched into overdrive. Jenna's appointment was at 12:15. The drive would take about thirty minutes, which left fifteen minutes for me to hop in the shower, apply some make-up, dry my hair, and throw on a suitable outfit.

"Caroline!" I screamed, twisting in the blonde's direction. "Please tell me you have a top lying around that I can borrow."

"Of course," she replied confidently before disappearing down the hallway. She reappeared a few seconds later and tossed an evergreen t-shirt with some beading accents in my direction. "It's the best I have."

"It works," I declared before darting up the stairs, screaming, "thanks," as I reached the second floor.

I'd just thrown the shirt onto Damon's bed and removed my pajama pants when a hand slithered around my waist.

"It's bad manners to eat and run you know?" Damon breathed against the entrance of my ear, forcing every muscle in my body to relax and tense simultaneously.

"Damon," I groaned, hating having him in this close of proximity and not being able to indulge myself. "I have to be there in forty-five minutes."

He swept away the strands of chestnut hair to expose the lower curve of my neck and instantly I felt blood start pumping to my lower regions. His bottom lip teased the now bare skin and his hand slid up to just below my breasts as he whispered, "Which leaves us _plenty _of time."

Heat had already started stimulating in the bottom of my belly and my nipples were straining against the cotton of my t-shirt, desperate for his hand to travel just the tiniest bit further north. His erection was pressed against my backside, tempting me beyond belief when I sighed. "I can't."

But he ignored my pathetic excuse of resistance and smirked against the arc of my neck. "I thought this was supposed to be a _physical_ relationship," he teased, suddenly directing his hand down the front of my stomach towards my panty line.

"So the _physical_ activity I initiated last night at 3am is too far in the past to count?" I challenged just as his fingers glided under the fabric of my panties. I sucked in a deep preparational breath of air and felt the shudder rip through me as his index finger played with my heated entrance.

My head had just fallen back onto his shoulders as he purred, "_Much_ too far."

Damon slid a single finger into my center and I was fairly certain my knees were going to buckle right then and there. He knew exactly which moves were required to slow the universe down and transform me into a submissive puppy. And with my eyes rolling back into their sockets and my hips riding his finger the way they were, I couldn't stop the act now. I'd never really _ever_ had the strength to resist colliding into him.

So, it was decided. I'd simply ride to the boutique with the windows down instead of wasting the time blow drying my hair here.

And as his thumb began circling over my clit, I released a moan into the air and panted, "Five minutes. That's all we have."

His lips pressed against the artery of my neck leaving a searing kiss in their place as he declared confidently, "Then we better get to it."

And just like that, he extricated his finger and I was turned around to meet the midnight blue of his irises. At the sight, my hands instinctively went for the buttons of his shirt, spastically attempting to free his chest, but before I'd had the chance to undo the top button, he'd slipped the shirt over his head and thrown it onto the floor.

Then he launched his lips in my direction, capturing and devouring what was undeniably his for the summer. His mouth was rough against my own, but the touch of his tongue was tender in its caressing, offering the sublime counterbalance.

It wasn't until my back landed on his mattress and Damon lowered his weight onto my chest, that I managed to pull my lips from his and interject, "Hold up."

I knew where this romp between the sheets was headed. Damon would start by teasing and tantalizing my surface to slowly build the desire for him to painful levels. He'd then give me just a taste of what I was craving, pushing me to the edge only to pull me back a couple of times. And then, after I'd pleaded and begged for him to help me climax, he'd oblige.

Normally, I had no problem with this. Yes, the girl that once detested the meaningless act of foreplay before the main event had been shown the light. I now treasured the way Damon worked my body before shooting me over the edge, but unfortunately we just didn't have time for the full marathon today.

At my interjection, Damon slowly pulled his face back to reveal the dubious state of his features as I explained, "Why don't you let me takes the reins on this one."

A quick chuckle escaped his deliciously appealing lips before his tongue slipped out to moisten them and he teased, "Someone's feeling dominant this morning."

If my core wasn't throbbing in need, I might have reached out and smacked the back of the head. However, it was and as the urge slipped through my arm, I resisted for the sake of getting quickly to my point. "I have no problem admitting that you know how to take advantage of an hours-worth of time with me. However, we only have five minutes."

"Yes," he replied sarcastically, "And I think I'm perfectly capable of rocking your world in a limited span of time."

His smirk was slashed across his lips and it was truly remarkable that I was lying there arguing with him when my insides were burning for insertion. And yet, I was. "I'm not saying you can't," I corrected. "However, I've spent a lot of sessions between classes mastering the art of a quickie and I know what gets me off the fastest."

At my argument, his hand slid underneath my shirt and along my ribcage, spreading tingles across the top layer of flesh. He then cocked his head to the side and jabbed, "Mastering the art of a quickie probably isn't something you want to go around bragging about."

"Damon," I exasperated, by no means wanting to waste any more time or put myself through anymore unnecessary waiting, "Just let me take control."

His smirk only increased in size at my outburst before it disappeared in the hollow of my neck. His voice was low, seductive, as he declared, "Elena, I only stretch it out to watch you squirm under my touch. Hearing your breath hitch in your throat while your hips buck, desperate for my contact, is the biggest turn on. And winding you up slowly only makes your orgasm more intense."

The tone of his voice and the words leaving his mouth had only managed to twist me up more. My thighs were gripping onto his hips and my tongue was mashed between my teeth when he pulled back and confidently added, "However; that doesn't mean I can't fuck your brains out in five minutes and make it the best five minutes you've ever experienced."

His shaft was pressed into the thin fabric of my panties and against my center and by no means could I stretch this out any longer. Time was of the essence, and more importantly, I just wanted, no scratch that, _needed_ him inside of me.

So I breathed out, "Then what are you waiting for?"

It was the only cue Damon needed before a flash of something carnal ignited behind his topaz gems. I bit my lip at the sight when he quickly grabbed a condom from the nightstand, lifted me from the bed, and pinned me against the wall. My shirt was ripped over my head, as my fingers clawed at the buckle of his jeans. Within no time, they'd dropped to the ground and with some sort of supernatural strength, Damon managed to hold me up with just one hand and slip on the condom with the other. Then he yanked my panties to the side and entered me in one slick movement.

I gasped as Damon entered me to the hilt, still amazed over how completely he fit the inside of my body, as his hips started jerking back and forth. His chest was mashed against the peaks of mine, our frantic heartbeats conjoined, when my legs responsively wrapped around his torso to offer him premium access to my sweet spot.

One of his hands cupped my ass, supporting my weight, as the other reached up to fondle my breast and within mere seconds, I already started teetering that blissful edge. My fingernails scraped the skin of his back and friction was building in my center when I started screaming Damon's name. But when he lowered his face to the crook of my neck and started placing wet kisses against my skin, I grabbed onto the sides of his cheeks and forced his lips to make contact with mine.

My fingers tangled themselves in his jet black locks as my lips separated under the pressure of his. Our tongues swirled together; the only delicate portions of this entire act, when I released another passionate moan into the cavern of his mouth.

Damon's thrusts increased in speed and I picked up the pace right along with him, simultaneously jerking my hips in sync with his. We were both gasping for air, supplying the other with whatever we had and our heartbeats were racing. My head and shoulders were mashed against the wall, firmly planted to allow enough strength to keep my body grinding against Damon's, desperate for release.

Then the wall collapsed inward and everything transitioned to black as I left reality and reached my ultimate high. My walls clamped down around Damon as I rode the euphoric waves and after a few more pumps he joined my climax.

He held me there, suspended against the wall for a second as our breathing regulated. My heart was still pumping frantically in my chest, against his chest, when I finally managed to stop panting.

Damon then slipped out and lowered me to the ground with a conceited smirk on his lips. I wobbled a bit, eager to reclaim the balance he'd knocked askew, when he shot an emphatic glance towards the alarm clock on his nightstand and smugly proclaimed, "Just under five minutes. I do believe that means I was right."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you rocked my little world in under five minutes. You should be proud of yourself," I dismissed with a role of the eyes and frisky grin on my lips, resulting in a laugh on his end.

There was no point in denying that Damon knew full well he'd once again impressed me with his skills in the bedroom. I didn't think it was possible, but apparently there was nothing he could do wrong when it came to the art of seducing and conquering.

Still, it went against my very nature to resist wiping that smirk from his face. And as I stepped around him towards the bureau full of towels, I mimicked his very smirk back at him. "However; premature ejaculation on your part probably isn't something you want to go around bragging about in Economics today."

His eyes narrowed in my direction, but the smirk remained intact as he tried to smugly refute, "You and I _both_ know I can hold out if I need to."

But I was already laughing at the revealing inflamed tint of his cheeks, incapable of stopping to offer up another witty response.

He watched me from across the room, amusement twinkling from his expression at my behaviour, before finally closing the space separating us. "You think you're funny don't you?"

"I think I'm hilarious," I admitted through one last giggle. When it finally subsided, I laced my arms around his back and added, "But I also think your angry face is adorable."

He studied my expression for a second and smiled, forcing his eyes to brighten ever so slightly as he proclaimed softly, "And I think you look most sexy like this."

"Like what?" I inquired, feeling the pull of a smile on my own lips at his compliment.

He ever so subtly licked his lips before inching them forward to press against mine. They lingered for just a second before Damon pulled back and answered, "Cheeks flushed, body satisfied, and skin sweaty."

A giggle sounded from my chest as my head shook back and forth in amusement. "I _am_ something to be desired aren't I?" I replied cheekily, expertly sashaying my hips as I crossed the room to his shower.

"You certainly are," he drawled. Damon intently watched the show of my bare features as I opened the door to his shower and turned on the steady stream.

The water had just reached a decent temperature when he called out, "I want to show you something tonight, if you're not doing anything."

I turned around, cocked out my hip ever so slightly on his behalf, and purred, "After the performance you just put on, you've claimed my whole evening."

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><p>A little under an hour later, I screeched my car to a halt in one of the parking spots out front of Becky's Bridal.<p>

The tacky name wasn't a good indication for the boutique itself; it was simply the result of some terrible nickname of the current owner's grandmother. She'd passed on years ago, but the store remained in the hands of her daughters. They'd taken the once small store and turned it into the best bridal shop within 100 miles.

I threw open the front door, sending the tiny bell above tinkling frantically to alert the sales clerks of my arrival, and stepped inside. The general color of the store was a nose-scrunching baby pink that forced me to remind myself that I was the maid of honor and absolutely required to be here. The pink was broken apart by full length mirrors encompassing pedestals for future brides and displays of sparkly dresses.

"Late to your own aunt's dress fitting. Shame on you," Bonnie playfully scolded from a chair against the front window. She then made a disappointed clicking noise with her tongue before busting out into a round of giggles.

"I know, I suck," I groaned, making my way to my friend's side to give her a hug. It felt so long since I'd seen her and in reality it had been. So naturally, when she called me yesterday and asked what I was doing today, I told her about Jenna's fitting. Bonnie wasn't a bridesmaid since Jenna didn't have any, but she'd been around my family since our toddler years and definitely worthy of a seat at today's session.

When we finally pulled apart, I craned my neck around the store and inquired, "Where's our bride?"

Bonnie pointed her finger towards a door across the store and answered, "She just went to the back. You haven't missed anything yet."

"Good," I released with a sigh of relief. "Sorry for being late."

Bonnie made the same clicking noise in her mouth and rolled her eyes as I took a seat in the empty chair next to her. "I haven't seen you in weeks and the first time we plan to get together, you're late."

I shrug innocently and bartered, "Would it make any difference if it had something to do with a guy and a certain activity?"

Just like I assumed, her cinnamon orbs sparked with intrigue. "It would make_ all_ the difference," she gushed.

"Then that's why I'm late," I confidently proclaimed with a giddy expression I was incapable of removing from my face.

"Elena Gilbert, I'm proud of you," she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me the same way a proud parent would if their child just won the championship spelling bee. "We stop seeing each other and you start getting laid on the regular." As she pulled back, her hands remained on my shoulders as she urged, "So who's the guy this time?"

I rolled my eyes because she knew I'd been seeing Damon; I'd told her that info the last time we spoke on the phone. But in typical Bonnie fashion she chose to ignore the concept of me in an actual relationship the way she always did.

"C'mon Bonnie," I muttered with a playful tap of the shoulder, "You know it's Damon."

Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she exasperated, "You're still seeing him?"

"Yes, I'm still seeing him," I adamantly declared, by no means interested in making my love life and our different opinions regarding it the topic of today's conversation. Bonnie's was sure to be much more interesting anyway, so I swiftly switched subjects. "But what about you? Anyone new?"

She shrugged and cocked her head back and forth before answering indifferently, "Oh, you know me. I always have a few in my back pocket whenever I need them."

I laughed at the all too true statement and said, "So no one important?"

Her eyes swiveled over to latch onto mine as she asked, "Why would you ask that?"

I shrugged and reasoned, "Because normally I can't go a day without getting a phone call from you and it's been weeks."

"The phone works both ways you know," she spat back, leaving me feeling a little blind-sided by the sudden hostility. Bonnie had always held the strongest temper in the group, but she'd never been the jealous type.

"I know," I stated before lifting my hands into the air. "I wasn't implying that I was angry with you. Just curious what was going on."

"I've just been busy," Bonnie explained in the same detached tone before releasing a deep breath of air. It seemed to relieve some of her tension, because her attitude abruptly changed and she suggested enthusiastically, "But I'm not tonight. What do you say the two of us take a road trip to Richmond and hit up the bars?"

"I can't tonight," I replied hesitantly. "I already promised Damon I'd spend tonight with him."

Bonnie's irises briefly drifted towards the sky as she released a snort and justified, "Elena, I'm sure you spend every night with him. I think he can survive one night without you."

I wasn't thrilled about the potential of hostile Bonnie returning, but I simply couldn't give in to her. I'd already made plans with Damon and I had to stick with them, no matter how guilty I was feeling for neglecting my best friend. "I'm sorry Bonnie, but I promised."

"Fine, if you want to spend another night with your boyfriend then I can't argue," she huffed and turned to face the door opening in front of us. Just as the first section of blazing white fabric appeared behind the door, Bonnie leaned in and whispered, "Although, I just have to point out that the old you wouldn't have hesitated before ditching the guy she was seeing to have some fun with her girlfriend."

Bonnie's accusation swirled around my head, planting seeds and sprouting suffocating vines of doubt. I couldn't help but deny that maybe she was correct. The old me certainly wouldn't have put a guy above her friends and apparently that's what I'd been doing. I'd gotten comfortable with Damon and let that feeling of happiness overshadow the fact that I'd been ignoring my own established rules. Originally, the notion hadn't seemed like a big deal, but I hadn't seen Bonnie in weeks and the only reason I saw Caroline was because she was practically boarding in the same house I was. I mean, Caroline and I still spent time together, just the two of us, but was it any less than when I was dating other guys? I wasn't sure.

"What do you girls think?" Jenna squealed, pulling me from my internal character assault, as she stepped up onto one of the pedestals of the showroom. The ivory dress was an elegant A-line fit with just enough Swarovski crystal embellishments to add a bit of sparkle to the room. The corset closure on back instantly shed ten pounds from Jenna's figure and the smile she was sporting only lit her up more.

There was no denying it, my aunt looked positively stunning.

"You look beautiful," I declared, a bit awe-struck by how true that statement actually was.

"Gorgeous," Bonnie added from beside me.

Tears had started to sprout in the corners of my aunt's eyes as she turned around and asked, "You really think so?"

I smiled at my aunt's moment, thankful that I hadn't missed a second of it, and answered, "Absolutely."

Jenna then turned around to once again admire her appearance, running her hands along the soft satin of the dress before throwing an arm into the air. "Wait, we need the veil for the full effect. I'll be right back," she explained before disappearing behind the back room door.

I laughed and shook my head at my aunt's spastic behavior, finding her more jovial in this particular moment than I'd ever witnessed, when Bonnie muttered, "With the rate you're going, you'll be the next one on the pedestal."

Her warning shot hit its mark because, instantly, the waves of guilt over ignoring my best friend and trembles of fear over spending too much time with Damon were brought to the center-most portion of my mind. And without wasting time stressing over the issue, I turned to my friend and said, "You know what? You're right. We're long overdue for a ladies night. I'll text Damon and let him know."

"So you're in," Bonnie declared with a devilish blaze of amusement and excitement in her eyes. "That's my girl."

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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	11. Chapter 11

**I really hope you guys can forgive me for failing to respond to your reviews lately… I've been trying to find the time to do so, I promise, but life has been busy… really busy. I **_**will**_** get caught up at some point, I will. But once again I need to thank you all as one awesomely supportive group of reviewers instead of personally.**

**Now, I'm feeling nervous about this chapter and under different circumstances I would have kept it simmering for a few extra days before posting in hopes of figuring out why. But I have friends coming into town tomorrow and wanted to give you one last update before I go on a little mini hiatus.**

_**Hopefully my worries are for nothing and you all still like the chapter. *Fingers crossed!***_

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><p>"What are we doing here again?" Caroline asked from her position on the opposite side of the rack of racy lingerie in <em>Fredericks<em>. "From the squeaking floorboards, I really don't think Damon needs another incentive to jump you."

I pushed a hideously pink bustier down the rack before directing my eyes towards my friend and asking, "The floorboards really squeak?"

"Of course not," she dismissed, never lifting her eyes from the fabrics to meet mine. "I was just adding a bit of drama to the statement."

"Effective," I muttered before returning my attention back down to the mission at hand. That mission being: distracting Damon with enough sex appeal to make him completely forget about last night.

"But really, Elena, you don't need a sexy outfit to turn Damon on. His tongue practically dangles from his mouth whenever you enter the room," Caroline assured.

I sighed, understanding that her accusation would have been correct under different circumstances, and countered, "But I _do_ need a sexy outfit to enhance my apology."

"Oh right, the apology for bailing on him last night," she noted in amusement. My attention was still focused on the articles dangling from the rack when I felt the heat of her gaze against my forehead. "Are you sure that's the only thing you're apologizing for?"

My eyes darted up to meet hers when I challenged, "Yeah, why?"

"I don't know," she replied, stretching out the words to intensify the sarcasm, "Maybe because you spent the night with Bonnie and I just know her too well."

Caroline's snarky comment didn't come as a surprise. Although the three of us had conquered the art of pushing our differences aside to remain friends, it was still a known reality that my girls did not share similar opinions when it came to relationships. Occasionally, like today, caddy comments slipped and I simply learned to brush them off.

But today my friend had a point. Bonnie _had_ been the one to initiate the conversation with the two guys at the bar last night, urging them to buy rounds of shots I later had to decline as the night progressed. She'd consistently been in my ear, assuring me it was alright that one of the guy's hands was pressed against the small of my back and occasionally drifting to the top of my ass. And she'd been the one begging me at the end of the night to head back to their apartment around the corner instead of Mystic Falls.

I'd insisted we head back home and under her pressure, I'd only partook in a bit of casual flirting. I had nothing to feel guilty about and yet, here I was, attempting to find the right outfit to prove to Damon why he was with me.

Despite my internal guilt, I had nothing to hide from Caroline. "I assure you, I was on my best behavior."

"Good," she replied enthusiastically as her eyes drifted back to the garments.

We finished rummaging through the sets of the first rack before making our way to the second. And as my hands pushed another tacky outfit to the side, I couldn't help my mind from concentrating on the accusations Bonnie made the day before.

I thought about the way I'd handled myself at the bar last night and found it impossible to deny how modestly I'd behaved around my admirer. Typically, I would have felt natural with a guy's hands on me, flattered at the gesture, and milked it for all it was worth. Being a girl had its advantages and free drinks for an evening was one that begged to be taken advantage of.

But instead, other than the sporadic flirty comments, I'd brushed the guy's advances off, found myself feeling guilty for spending time with these two randoms and my best friend when I'd already promised the evening to Damon. He'd sent me a confirmation text that he wasn't upset and besides, he'd already claimed the first third of my summer. My friends deserved my time just as much as he did. So why was my decision regarding how I chose to spend last night still running circles through my head? What was so important about one freaking night?

All signs pointed to an answer I wasn't ready to accept and it was because of that, that I found myself asking, "Caroline, have we been spending less time together? Just the two of us? I mean; without the boys?"

"No, why do you ask?" she replied, lifting her greyish-blue orbs to notice the trepidation in my coffee brown ones.

"Just something Bonnie said," I dismissed, regretting the impulsive choice to say anything at all.

But apparently I'd revealed as much as I feared because Caroline's eyes went through the motions of a roll. She then threw her hands dramatically into the air and accused, "Oh dear lord, I knew it. You're gonna let Bonnie ruin this aren't you?"

My head shot back slightly at her abruptness and I questioned, "What do you mean?"

"Elena, you're happy. Like ridiculously happy," she reasoned in a soothing tone before it switched to something chilled. "So of course Bonnie's gonna try and rain all over your parade."

Typical Caroline. My head swiveled back and forth as I refuted, "That's not true."

"Of course it's true," she shot back with an alarming sense of certainty. "It happens every time and frankly I'm shocked you haven't noticed it yet."

"What happens every time?" I asked with an incredulous expression painted over my features.

Caroline sighed and shook her head from side to side. She appeared almost annoyed by my ignorance as she questioned, "Last night, did Bonnie put on a show and make you feel guilty for spending so much time with Damon?"

"It wasn't a show and maybe she has a point. I've been spending so much time with Damon that I haven't had the chance to see her. I was even late to Jenna's dress fitting yesterday because of him," I reasoned.

"But you still made it, Elena," Caroline defended easily. "And you haven't seen _me_ any less than normal."

"That's only because you're dating his roomie," I justified. "Maybe I _am_ investing too much of my time in Damon. I mean a third of the summer's already gone and what have I accomplished?"

"Besides helping Jenna plan a wedding and enjoying yourself, I don't know," she muttered under her breath before shaking her head spastically through the air. She then startled me by throwing her hands towards the ceiling and calling out, "Ghesh, Bonnie's gotten so far under your skin that you're one step away from abolishing your relationship before it's even started."

At that I shook my head and scoffed. I was nervous about the time I'd been spending with Damon and the way it was affecting my other relationships, but I wasn't ready to completely cut the cord. Maybe just back off a little. And what the hell did she even mean by claiming my relationship hadn't started? As far as I was aware, Damon and I had been together for over a month.

So I rejected, "Caroline, you don't know what you're talking about."

"And see, that's where you're wrong," she declared, leaning forward and throwing both of her arms on top of the rack. "I know exactly what I'm talking about and you wanna know why?"

"Why?" I replied with a roll of my eyes, figuring it was the only way to end this ridiculous little disagreement I'd stupidly initiated.

"Because I've been there from the beginning and I was there when you went through the tragedy of your parents. I saw how it broke you; how Stefan broke you," she explained, all trace of her previous irritation replaced with empathy. "It's understandable how difficult trusting someone can be after that because it left you vulnerable. Which is why Bonnie's lifestyle has been appealing ever since."

She then took a deep breath and continued before I had a chance to interject, "She doesn't trust anyone and she keeps her emotions out of her affairs. No one can break her and that detachment, that illusion of strength is alluring. But Elena, that lifestyle is never going to work for you. We wouldn't be here looking for a guilt outfit if that were the case."

There was truth behind her words, but all I could focus on was the last accusation that left her perfectly balmed lips. "I'm perfectly capable of keeping my emotions out of my physical relationships. Just because I want to show off for Damon doesn't mean they've gotten involved."

"They're involved. Trust me. And no, you can't keep them out because that's never been the person you are," Caroline reasoned softly. "You can try to mimic Bonnie as best as you can, but you're feelings are always going to get involved. Which is how Bonnie can so easily manipulate you every time you spend more than two weeks with a guy. She uses them against you."

My mind drifted over my past relationships and the way they'd all come to an end. Each one had been a result of my own doing, not Bonnie's. It was true that I envied the way she could so easily alleviate her emotions from each of her relationships. It kept her heart safe, guarded behind a solid barrier. But idolizing her ability to protect herself hardly seemed like the reason each of my relationships had come to an end.

So I argued, "Yes, maybe I find her lifestyle easier, but I don't see how that's ruining my relationships, Caroline."

"Oh really?" she spat back incredulously. "Then why haven't you told Damon about Stefan yet?"

"Because he doesn't need to know," I refuted.

"No," she adamantly declared, "because Bonnie's implanted her beliefs so far into your thick skull that you're terrified of appearing vulnerable and admitting to him the real reason you've been keeping him at a distance. The same way you keep every guy at a distance."

This was just getting downright absurd. I mean, maybe she had a point, but my ego was too bruised at this point to acknowledge it. "Caroline, I spend almost every night at Damon's. I hardly consider that keeping him at a distance."

But she shook her head and explained, "I'm not talking about physical distance, I'm talking about emotional. There is nothing that you've done differently in this relationship than any of your others. It's still strictly a physical relationship."

Her face had started flushing a dark shade of red, perhaps from the irritation that was spilling out in her tone, but I wasn't going to back down. Not now anyway because I'd never given information about myself or my past to a guy before Damon and she knew that. "That's not true at all. I've let him in more than any guy since Stefan."

"Telling him that you're favorite color is green doesn't exactly qualify as letting him in," she scoffed.

Frustration surged through my veins at a vicious rate and it was then that I finally just gave up. It was clear to see that no matter what I said to defend myself, it wouldn't sink into my friend's skull. So I threw my hands into the air and countered in a heated tone, "Then what are you suggesting, Caroline?"

"I'm suggesting that you take advantage of your situation," she replied matter-of-factly.

With the way the words had left her lips, it seemed I was supposed to already understand the situation she was referring to. I didn't. "That meaning?"

She rolled her eyes once again at my incompetence before explaining, "Damon's already established the end date to your relationship so no matter what happens this summer, you two will still split ways."

"Okay?" I questioned, still wondering where the hell this was going.

Then a satisfied grin crept over my blonde friend's lips as she declared, "So take this summer, ignore Bonnie's influence, and let yourself be vulnerable. Let yourself have fun the way you used to and most importantly, just let yourself feel again. You've already started to and look at how happy you've been."

My mind fluttered through the memories I'd already generated this summer with Damon. The beginning moments that made my heartbeat accelerate as he repeatedly pushed through my established boundaries. The middle ground when we'd finally connected and I'd given in to the relationship we both wanted. And the memories from the past few days where it'd felt completely comfortable lying in the confinement of his arms at night or slipping my feet under the warm protection of his legs.

It was those little moments, the ones that are usually overlooked, that I could remember the feel of a smile gracing my lips because Caroline was right, I'd been happy so far this summer. In a town where I'd usually found myself crippled by the weight of my past, Damon had relieved some of the burden and replaced it with something new. And I hadn't even let him all of the way in yet. What would happen if I truly did?

But then those memories were overshadowed by the similar way I'd felt with Stefan before that fateful night. And then the way that happiness had been buried under the agony of betrayal and guilt. Opening yourself up to someone reopened that option as well. And even someone as assuring as Damon still held the capability of hurting me, even if he didn't intend to. Which led me back around to my original belief - someone can't hurt you if you don't let them.

My eyes were directed on the momentarily forgotten lingerie below when I softly admitted the truth. "I don't know if I can."

But then Caroline walked around the rack to my side, waiting for my eyes to drift up and face her before assuring, "Yeah, you do and what better guy to do it with than Damon? He knows exactly what you're going through and he's not going to take advantage of that."

She had a point, if I was going to let down my guard for anyone, Damon was certainly the most worthy competitor, but it still didn't change much. Because even if I _did_ open up to him, what could come of it? A little fun? Caroline had admitted herself that the end of our relationship had already been established and no matter what happened this summer, we'd still have to part ways.

So what was the point of experimenting and offering my heart again to someone if it was only going to be thrown back in my face later down the road?

It was that question that had me reasoning, "But if I do this, if I open myself up and really fall for Damon, I'm only going to get hurt when summer ends."

But Caroline simply returned my question with a smile she'd mastered through the years. It spoke of a mature understanding wise beyond her age, as she proclaimed, "Elena, you spend most nights with the guy and you're buying an outfit simply because you bailed on _one_ of them. No matter what, the end of summer is still going to hurt. At least this way you can be yourself during it. And I mean _really_ be yourself."

The appeal of that freedom remained intact as my previous fears and resistance started sifting from the mess. Only a second had passed, not nearly long enough for me to make a decision, when Caroline shrugged and suggested, "Just think about it."

Her hand then extended into the rack of clothing I'd been staring at for the last twenty minutes before pulling out a black lace number and attachment garters. "Now buy this one. Your boobs will look amazing through the lace."

* * *

><p>My heart felt like it was running laps when my hand slid around the nob of Damon's front door and pushed it open. He didn't know I was stopping by since I hadn't heard from him all day, but I assured myself there was no need to be nervous. He'd already insisted he wasn't mad in his text last night and if he was, well I had ammunition for that battle masterfully hidden under my red vintage dress.<p>

The thick cotton of the garment swished against my legs as I approached the kitchen. Familiar sounds of pots and running water echoed through the doorway and into the hallway just as I approached the threshold of the room and threw my hand seductively onto my hip. It wasn't until the room came into full focus that my hand slid down my hip and my jaw fell slightly ajar.

Damon was artfully dicing tomatoes on the countertop in none other than a bright red apron decorated with the saying 'Kiss The Cook' and a bubblegum pink kiss mark. At the sight, a chuckle threatened to escape my lips, but I threw my mouth over my hand and held it back. I just wanted this moment and my witness of it to last a few seconds longer.

The knife in Damon's hand made a steady percussion against the cutting board as he executed the same humming I'd heard in my bedroom. His eyes were focused downward on the task at hand and it was then my heart stopped running the laps it previously had and instead performed a backflip in my chest.

Because in that moment, there were no signs of the dangerous man I'd initially assumed Damon to be back during winter break; the one with the secret agendas and the capability of grinding my heart between his teeth. Of course he was still layered in articles of black, but with the tune of his humming and the youthful smile on his lips, all that remained was the Damon with defining lines and stunning good looks. Just the carefree boy I'd chosen to spend my summer with, the one who made me feel comfortable with the capability of making my heart flutter beyond control and the one who held the potential of being the first to breach my barriers completely. He certainly held the power to make me feel guilty.

And when Damon turned to notice my presence, catching me in my gawking act, I blinked my eyes and shook my head to recompose myself.

"Hey," he said skeptically. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough," I admitted through a shrug before adding smugly, "But don't worry; you gave me a good laugh."

Damon's brows drifted towards his midnight hairline as he chuckled and muttered, "I'm sure."

My heels clanked against the tiles of the kitchen as I took my first few steps inside and inquired, "So what's with the apron?"

"Ah yes, the apron," Damon mused as his eyes drifted down to the hideous accessory. His pointer finger then jolted into the air and he declared, "I bet Tyler he couldn't clean the first level of the house in under an hour." There was a cunning smirk gracing his lips as he shrugged and added, "He won, depending on how you look at it."

I nodded approvingly, finding myself just as attracted to Damon's shrewd behavior as I was to him in that somehow appealing apron, and offered, "Clever."

"I like to think so," he replied, raising the line of his shoulders ever so slightly. He then went back to chopping the remaining bits of tomato into smaller pieces and asked, "So what are you doing here?"

I released a sigh, realizing that the friendly atmosphere between us could easily be demolished by the mention of last night, but knew I had to remove its weight from my chest. "I'm here to apologize for bailing on you last night," I admitted softly.

Damon lifted his head into the air, knitted his brows, and assured, "I already told you it was no big deal. You haven't spent much time with your friend," he then paused and asked, "Bonnie right?"

I nodded in confirmation.

"Yeah," he started again. "You haven't seen Bonnie much this summer so I could spare a night without you."

And then, as if he needed any more emphasis that the matter clearly wasn't an issue for him, Damon dipped a spoon into the sauce on the stove and hovered it in the air invitingly. "Here try this."

I crossed the space separating us to his side, utterly baffled by how Damon was handling how I'd dismissed our plans the night before. Any other guy would have at least made me feel somewhat guilty that I'd bailed on our date, but Damon didn't seem to mind in the least. As a matter of fact, he'd even defended my actions in a logical sense.

And maybe it was_ that_ understanding that had my self-inflicted guilt rising above a manageable level and the words, "Damon, I flirted with another guy," firing from my lips.

The spoon hovered less than an inch from my lips and Damon made no attempt to lower it as his brows drifted accusingly into the air.

Well, _that_ certainly received the reaction I was expecting.

"You flirted with another guy?" he asked in a low tone, cobalt eyes locked on mine. His voice came out in slightly about a whisper, but the heat was evident.

"Yeah," I answered sheepishly under the intensity of the blue that held me captive, wondering why the hell I'd felt the need to open my big mouth.

He finally lowered the spoon and let out a breath of air before demanding, "You're gonna have to elaborate a little bit on that for me."

"I flirted to get free drinks and he put his hand on my back, but that was it," I admitted in a rush, desperate for the truth to be out in the open and the guilt behind me already. "Nothing more," I assured with a shake of my head, violent enough to give me whiplash on a normal day.

My hand then extended to rest on his defined shoulder, supplying much required contact after the bomb I'd just dropped. And to my surprise, he nodded slightly, released another breath of air and said, "Okay."

"Okay?" I repeated, certain I'd heard him incorrectly.

"Yeah," he stated, accentuating it with a half-smile, before resuming his task of tomato chopping.

"That's it?" I asked skeptically. A voice in my head was begging for me to just shut the fuck up while I was ahead, but my gut wouldn't let me. "You're not upset?"

"No," he assured, never lifting his eyes from the chopping board. A sly smirk was arched up the side of his face that was visible as he questioned, "Do you want me to be mad?"

"No, it's just," I started before I realized what had my panties twisted up in a bunch. My arms then crossed over my chest and I asked, "So you aren't upset that another guy had his hands on me?"

Damon sighed and rolled his eyes. He then set the knife onto the board and turned to face me, placing a hand on each of my shoulders. "Look, do I like the fact that a prick got to feel you up last night? Not particularly. Would I rather hop on my bike, find the bastard, and clock the shit out of him? Of course."

He then paused for a second, allowing the truth of that first section time to sink in before squeezing my shoulders slightly and continuing. "But you told me upfront that you and your girlfriends get hit on and I agreed to not acting like a jealous boyfriend. So, I guess as long as nothing further happened I'm fine with that."

"Oh," I mumbled. "Alright then."

A shrug rolled through his shoulders, his hands broke contact and he was back to chopping those stupid tomatoes without saying another word - which left the room in silence and my mind plenty of time to analyze what had just occurred.

Unlike the pleased emotion I'd expected to feel when Damon obeyed my rules, dissatisfaction swirled in my stomach and it wasn't until that precise moment that I understood why. I'd _wanted_ Damon to mark his claim on me. I wanted to see the territorial rage he'd admitted he felt on the inside because it showed there was passion. It confirmed there was a reason we were both spending the summer together, a reason that went beyond just a simple fuck buddy.

Caroline had been right, my emotions were already more involved than I'd ever realized and Damon had just pointed them out to me the same way my friend had, just a bit more discreetly. It appeared everyone wanted to offer up a small dose of my own personal reality shock today.

And if that were the case and my emotions were already involved, than what was the point in resisting Caroline's suggestion? No matter what, saying goodbye to Damon at the end of summer was going to hurt like a bitch. I might as well let myself go and stop worrying about the wrong information slipping.

Damon must have noticed the distress covering my expression like clear saran wrap because he noted, "You seem disappointed that I'm not more upset."

He always _was_ observant, but it wasn't until my eyes drifted to Damon's face and I noticed the smug smirk that permeated his lips that I realized he knew exactly what he was doing. I'd been played, exactly like Tyler had, but surprisingly the notion didn't anger me.

Damon was cunning, understanding, and sexy as hell; all traits I found appealing. He followed along with whatever I asked of him, never breaking any of my rules, but pushed just enough to make me realize absurdities and truths I never would have otherwise. And with a past almost identical to mine, Caroline had been correct; he was the perfect guy to open up and spend my summer with, experimenting the state of my heart.

So I took a deep breath and clarified, "I'm not disappointed. It's just," before I trailed off, uncertain if I could really follow through. I mean, it was a big step I was making here. I was chucking all of my rules out the window and giving myself to Damon completely. After shutting myself off for 3 years, I was finally giving someone after Stefan a chance.

My pulse was pounding in my ears and the doubt was beginning to cloud my judgment when Damon's eyes drifted towards mine. That refreshing blue, so vibrant and inviting, offered a sufficient contrast to the essence of Stefan's hazel gaze from my past. And it was the only reassurance I needed to continue. "What would you say if I told you that I wanted to abolish the rule?"

He dropped the knife onto the board once again, but this time turned his entire body towards mine. "You want to abolish your own rule?" he asked hesitantly, doing a phenomenal job at hiding the satisfaction.

"Not just that one," I clarified softly, "but all of them."

"Well then," he replied, allowing just a figment of his amusement to breach his expression. Then his arm slid around the back of my waist, offering me the much needed assistance and balance I needed when taking the next step, as he stated, "I'd ask you why."

With the palm of his hand connecting with the muscle along my back and supplying me the reassurance I needed, I found the strength to declare, "Because there's details about my life that I've been keeping from you."

Damon's head cocked to the side slightly and he inquired, "What kind of details?"

"Defining ones," I admitted, reaching out to grab his remaining free wrist in the palm of my hand. I just needed to feel the steady beat of his pulse to regulate the frantic pace of mine. "Details I haven't shared with anyone except those who were there, but I want to share them with you because I think you deserve to know them."

"Okay," he assured softly, urging me to continue.

And it was then the frightened deer effect took over and my limbs started to shake. But I was with Damon, the guy who understood exactly how my body worked and if anyone could help me conquer these fears and regain control, it was him. So I confessed, "But once I do, everything about my past and why I am the way I am will be thrown out on the table. And I'm nervous about that."

His lips lifted into a reassuring smile as his hand lifted to capture the curve of my cheek. A few strands of my chestnut locks wove through his fingers as he pledged, "I won't take advantage of your past, Elena. You don't have to be nervous about that around me."

"But I am," I breathed out, feeling strong enough with Damon's flesh against my own to admit such a flaw, and yet still too weak to finally confess what Stefan had done to my parents, and ultimately me.

Noticing my reluctance, he caressed the side of my cheek with the pad of his thumb and offered, "Look, there's something I want to tell you too. It's doesn't relate to my past, but it's defining for my future." He then cocked his head to the side and questioned, "Would it make you feel safer if I shared that with you first?"

"Maybe," I admitted, finding the childhood concept of 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' promising.

The smile on his lips grew, infiltrating the full surface of his cheeks as his hands slid from their previous locations and towards the pot on the stove. He lifted the pot onto a cold burner and then twined his fingers through mine. "Alright, then let's go," he declared, directing me towards the hallway.

His abruptness was startling and instinctively I slammed my heels into his floorboards. "Wait where are we going?"

"The same place I wanted to take you last night," he answered.

"Are you at least going to take off your apron before we go?" I asked as we entered the parlor.

"I can't," he replied when we approached the front door. "The bet was that I had to wear it all day."

Damon then extended his hand and opened the large wooded door, motioning for me to go through.

Instead, I stood for a second, narrowing my eyes at what he was saying. "You'd really risk being caught in public wearing that apron?" I asked before elaborating, "Just to show me something so I feel more comfortable sharing something with you?"

At that, Damon pressed his lips against mine, rushing adrenaline to every desired location of my body, before pulling back to reveal his standard million-dollar smirk. "Darling, I'd do anything for you."

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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	12. Chapter 12

**I know I'm getting repetitive here, but thank you all so much for your reviews. It's such a pleasure being able to read them after I post a chapter, especially considering most of the time I've edited the thing so many times because it doesn't feel right. I've always been over-critical of my work and your positive feedback really assures me that I'm doing something right and the worry is all in my head. So thank you for that, it's really helped. :)**

_**Hope you like the new chapter!**_

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><p>"Aren't we there yet?" I goaded. "I'm getting impatient."<p>

Considering the information I promised to finally reveal to Damon, I should have been embracing the previous fifteen minutes it'd taken us to get to his secret location. The more time we spent getting there meant more time I was spared of dishing out my secrets. But the breeze from the night air during the way over on Damon's bike had ridden some of my pent up anxiety over the situation. And with one of his arms laced around my waist, guiding me to this mystery spot, and the other shielding my eyes from seeing anything besides pitch black, I'd never felt more comfortable. As it was right now, I felt more turned on by his confining contact than nervous over what I'd eventually have to disclose.

"Almost," he replied, rubbing his index finger in subtle spheres against my back as we continued moving forward.

We'd only taken a few more steps when a random voice broke through nature's silence. "Nice apron, dude."

"Thanks," Damon called out before lowering his face back against the side of mine. "Dude?" he repeated in a low, amused tone. "Did that guy really just call me dude?"

I giggled as Damon's breath tickled my ear, finding myself moderately amused that he'd been caught in his 'Kiss the Cook' apron as well as slightly irritated that I couldn't visualize the source of the jab. Still, at least now I knew we were someplace remotely public. It wasn't much of a clue, but better than nothing.

"I think he did. But don't let it get to you," I assured before twisting my head to the side just far enough to feel the skin of his cheek brush against my lips. "I personally find you extremely sexy in your apron. Well, from what I remember."

"Your eyes haven't been covered _that_ long," he retorted as his face twisted and his lips slid against mine. "However, I doubt it even comes close to how delicious I find you in those stockings."

The nylon of those very stockings suddenly seemed to restrict against my electrified skin along with the remaining pieces of my carefully chosen lingerie. The thought of revealing the piece had me forgetting completely about the reason we were at this location and honing in on what I wanted to do instead once we got there, whether it was public or not.

"I was beginning to wonder if you noticed," I responded cheekily, hoping the sultry tone of my voice had the same effect his did on me. "If you're lucky, I might just let you take them off later."

"Absolutely not," he whispered into the flesh of my neck as his hand grazed its way towards my flat stomach, just below my breasts. "If anything, they'll be the only thing you keep on."

My body instinctively molded into his hold, ready for our actions to pick up where our words had left off, when Damon's feet stopped moving.

"We're here."

There was a specific reason we were here, one that was just as important to Damon as it was to me and it was the only reason I was able to contain my grunt of disproval.

The hand covering my eyes remained in place, but the other slid from around my waist when Damon asked, "Can I trust you not to peek for two seconds?"

"You're just going to leave me here by myself?" I asked with an amused smile curling my lips. "I don't even know where we are."

"I need both of my hands for two seconds. That's it," he replied through a chuckle at my dramatics.

"Fine then, but I'm counting," I offered smugly, the smile still intact. "After two seconds, I get to open my eyes."

The warmth supplied by the contact of his hand left my face instantly, taking my smile with it.

With my lids still locked shut as promised, I started, "One Mississippi," as my ears picked up the sound of clanking metal.

"Two Miss…" was as far as I got before Damon's hand reclaimed its position over my eyes. His other slid against my back again, directing me forward when my pumps landed on something that sounded like wooden baseboards.

A musty smelled permeated my nostrils and a damp chill swirled over my skin when Damon's hand fell from my face. "Open your eyes," he directed.

Light slowly crept through my parting lids to reveal a building shitty enough to alleviate all of my previous arousal. The place was easy to recognize as an old Italian restaurant from my childhood, one that hadn't been touched in clearly over a decade. Walls were made entirely of steel-grey stone, windows were boarded up with plywood sheets, floors were constructed by moldy boards and a few random dusty, half broken tables were scattered throughout the establishment. The only decent thing the place had going for it was the fact that the roof was still intact.

"Damon," I stated hesitantly, taking slow steady steps throughout the room. With my luck and the state of the floorboards, the possibility of falling through was pretty damn high. 'Why are we here?"

Damon's eyes swept the contents of the crumbling interior. The confident smile gracing his lips was a clear indication his eyes apparently saw something I couldn't. "There's only one question you've ever asked me that I couldn't give you an answer to."

"Yeah, the beer tasting and why we were doing it," I supplied impatiently, eager to get to the reason we were there.

His sky blue irises, so drastic and refreshing in contrast against the murky confines of the building, settled onto mine. The smile was still intact when his hands lifted into the air and he declared, "Well, this is my answer."

"This?" I questioned incredulously as my hands pointed spastically around the room. "This is your answer?" I chose to completely disregard the fact that Damon had also referred to this place earlier as defining for his future because my mind couldn't exactly accept that portion just yet.

He ignored my obvious dislike of our surroundings and countered enthusiastically, "Yes, I put in an offer on it yesterday." He then started making his way through the room, leaving me standing in the center shell shocked, as he stressed, "Don't you see the potential?"

My arms crossed over my chest as I wavered between confusion and blatant judgment. Damon hardly struck me as the guy who made poor decisions, quite the opposite actually, but apparently I'd been misled in my assumptions. As of right now, he was acting like a total idiot; an adorable one with that giddy excitement flowing through his movements and bright red apron swaying against his legs, but an idiot nonetheless.

"The only thing I see potential for is asbestos exposure," I chided.

But he didn't seem disheartened by my negativity. Instead he shook his head and chuckled at my statement. "You have absolutely no faith in my abilities."

"It's not that, it's just…" I started before cutting off. It was obvious this old restaurant was important to Damon and I had no intention of destroying whatever image he had in his mind regarding the place, but I needed to hit him with some sort of reality. "Well look at this place."

"Yeah," he agreed with a slight shrug of his shoulders, the only motion that exposed he shared some of my opinion. But besides that, there was no evidence as he added with the same motivated smile intact, "The place _is_ a little rough around the edges."

"Damon," I reasoned, "it's practically a few good knocks away from collapsing."

"You're being a bit dramatic," he retorted with a quick deflecting shake of the head. He then gave me a crooked smile that had fireworks erupting in my tummy as he stepped forward. His hand extended to feather the line of my jaw before his head cocked to the side and he coaxed, "Not everything's perfect at first glance. Sometimes it takes a little work to discover something's true potential."

Responsively, my head tilted towards the faint touch of his fingertips, reveling in the gentle strokes it supplied. "It's going to take more than a little work to get this thing up and running," I reasoned softly.

"I didn't say it was gonna be easy, Elena," he stressed, lifting his brows slightly so the full force of that electric blue could take effect. "But some things are worth the extra effort," he added with a smirk, his eyes lingering on mine for the longest second before he broke contact and backed away.

As Damon made his way throughout the room, checking various furniture and panels along the way, I couldn't help but wonder if he'd simply been referring to our location. I mean, I hadn't exactly been the easiest to handle at first, but I'd like to hope I was worth the effort. Maybe he had a point after all, but if that was the case, I needed to offer up some constructive thinking points.

"Alright, figuratively speaking, let's say I back your decision," I let out with a huff causing his head to snap back towards my direction. "How the hell are you going to get this place up and running again? And if you do, what's so different about this restaurant than Larry's Italian Bistro down the street?"

At my cooperation, Damon flicked his brows enthusiastically into the air and took quick steps to eliminate the space between us. "I've done carpentry work in the past so I can handle the rebuild, plus Tyler agreed to help me out as long as I gave him a job once it's open. With his help as well as Ric's, I can have this place up and running by fall."

My hands immediately shot into the air, bringing Damon's hasty chatter to a halt. "Ric knows about this?"

"Of course," he answered through knitted brows before immediately catching onto the fact that I was hurt by being the last one filled in on his endeavors. His hand then extended to squeeze my shoulder as he stressed, "But don't get upset that he and Jenna didn't tell you. I asked him not to and the only reason you're just finding out about it now is because I wanted to know for sure if I had the place. I told you before that I wouldn't lie to you when I gave you my answer, even if it wasn't intentional, and now I'm not."

Normally, it would have been easy remaining upset with a guy who'd filled everyone else in on his choices before involving me. But with that earnest blue coasting through Damon's irises and his reasoning behind why he'd held out on my involvement, it was impossible to hold a grudge.

So I relaxed my shoulders, released a musty breath of air, and supplied, "Okay."

He smiled and nodded at my acceptance before jumping straight back into his enthusiastic answer to my questions. "And as far as making this place different from Larry's, well that's easy because it's not going to be a restaurant. I mean, I still want to serve _some_ food, but it's primarily going to be a bar."

"A bar?" I spat out with wild eyes as soon as the word fired from his lips.

He mistook the reason behind my sudden mood shift and reasoned, "The only option we have in town now is Jerry's Pub and, let's be honest, it's not the greatest option."

I could feel Damon's eyes penetrating into my forehead, but mine had drifted towards the floor. A thousand thoughts were shooting through my mind, the most prominent being how fucking ironic this moment had become. It'd already been an uphill battle getting myself to acknowledge Damon's ambition about revamping the building in the first place and support it. But now I had to accept the fact that his dream was opening up a place that served the main inducer behind the moment that had shattered my life, and me, into a thousand tiny pieces.

It hardly seemed like a concept my mind was capable of handling and it was the reason I was only able to get out, "I can't believe you're opening a bar."

"I know, and thanks to you, I'll have a few specialty drinks to serve to really set the place apart from Jerry's," he declared confidently, reaching down to place the tips of his fingers against my chin.

As his eyes connected with my own, Damon's perception had him noticing my discomfort instantly. His brows furrowed and his eyes filled with concern as he inched forward and inquired, "Elena, what's the matter?"

The problem was that Damon was supposed to be my escape from my past, not a constant reminder of it. He was supposed to be my safe haven this summer, my distraction, but how was that supposed to be the case if all I could associate him with now was this bar? Attending one here and there was fine and dandy, it was just a quick escape from reality, but now it was a main aspect of Damon's summer - of his future. It was going to be a _defining_ aspect of his future, as he referred to it before, which now meant it was going to be a main element of _my_ summer as well.

"Nothing," I lied because, despite the havoc corrupting the moment for me, I didn't have the heart to ruin it for Damon. And when he shot me a cynical expression, I encouraged, "Honestly it sounds like you have it all figured out and I love that fact that you're so passionate about what you're doing. I'm happy for you."

"No," he disputed softly, his head motioning back and forth as random strands of midnight hair swished through the air. "Something's wrong, I can see it all over your face."

The unease in his eyes and the concern of his tone, almost had me faltering, but I broke eye contact and lifted my hand to my face. "It's just the dust," I lied. "It's gotten in my eyes."

But he saw right through my weak excuse of a lie. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling it from my face as his opposite hand lifted to cup the curve of my cheek. His irises had darkened a bit, but the fire in them was anything but subtle as he accused, "Are we really back to this?" He shook his head in disbelief and clarified, "Deflection?"

"No, Damon," I started with every intention of sparing him my truth. I knew it wasn't fair to spoil his burst of enthusiastic sunshine by rolling in rainclouds of my past, but I couldn't help but consider it was why we'd come here in the first place. He'd brought me here to make it easier to share my own secrets and be honest with him about who I was. Currently, I didn't know which option was better for either of us, but he'd latched onto my truth, the same way he'd been able to way back at Duke's bonfire and I was powerless against his hold. So I blurted out, "It's just - a bar. Really, your future is running a bar?"

His eyes narrowed, but he was still so close, close enough to see the tiny line of silver rimming his pupils as he remarked, "I'm failing to see the downfall in it that you are."

His tone chilled my insides, coating them in frost instead of his familiar warmth. I loathed the feeling and desperately needed him to understand. "It's not your downfall," I explained, "It's my _own_ personal hellish irony."

"I'm having a rough time keeping up here," he quipped. Apparently my statement had been too cryptic for him to understand.

And with his eyes penetrating into me, latching onto my guilt, heartstrings, conscious and everything else I'd failed to recognize since my parents death, I knew we'd approached the defining moment I'd promised to him. The one I'd denied from everyone, including myself, since that horrifying day. The timing wasn't perfect, it didn't seem fair to ruin the serenity of his moment with the harshness of mine, but it didn't seem fair denying it from him either.

So I took a deep breath, felt the blood rush through my limbs and pulse in my ears, as I started to let go. "Damon, there's a reason I didn't trust you at first and there's a reason you've only ever seen me drunk one time and they both have to do with one thing, one event."

"That is," he urged slightly, picking up on the importance of the moment and leaning further into me.

I inhaled Damon's scent as he did, needing something to keep me going, something reassuring, something that was _his_. And as the first tear formulated in the corner of my eye and fell over my bottom lid, I admitted, "Alaric told you the story about my parent's death, but what he failed to include was the part where my drunk ex-boyfriend was the one driving the car that smashed into _their_ car."

His lids retracted slightly at my information, baring more soothing blue to ease the frantic pace of my heart. I watched the emotions transition across his features; shock, anger, fright, sympathy, and understanding before he finally found his voice. "So what you're saying is…"

"Yes," I interjected because although Damon was finding it difficult finding his voice during the severity of my truths, I'd finally found mine and couldn't let it drift away. A few more tears fell down my cheeks, not the heavy downpour I'd expected as I explained, "I was dating the guy who killed my parents. I was with him that night and I let him leave knowing he'd had more than he should to drink. And thirty minutes later, I got his phone call telling me what happened."

It'd been the first time I'd relieved myself of the facts. Other than the tears, I hadn't expressed the pain or the trauma it'd brought me afterwards, but I hadn't needed to. Damon already knew the effects since he'd been witnessing them so far this summer and the weight from that emotional strain already felt a bit lighter.

"Elena," Damon offered, empathy streaming from his expression as his thumbs lifted to stroke salty tears from my now flushed cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," I replied with a soft smile. The strain on my cheeks forced a few more droplets from my eyes only to have them instantly claimed under Damon's flesh. "But I didn't tell you because I want you to feel sorry for me."

"Well, why _did_ you tell me?" he inquired as his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in a way that could be read as either impressed or skeptical. I couldn't differentiate, but something had me leaning towards impressed.

"Because I didn't want you thinking my reason for hating this dream of yours had anything to do with you or my faith in you," I answered, doing my best to keep my trembling hands steady against my sides. "I think this place will be great after you're done."

"And because I owed you the truth," I admitted, because I owed him that too; I owed him every bit of truth I was able to offer, even if it was difficult. "You've been honest with me about everything and you deserved to know me in return." I then took a step back, enough for him to see all of me and not just my eyes. His hands slipped from my face and down to the sides of my shoulders as I added, "Not this guarded chick that I've been projecting all summer, the one that's a result of another guy's actions, but the _real_ me."

The unprotected, bare me whose breathing was coming out in in rushed blasts of air. The one who was freaking out a bit underneath of the surface because she'd finally cracked the doors open to her past and wasn't sure she was entirely ready to face everything that followed. But Damon's eyes were a lustrous hue of blue as an effect of my confessions and it was the only reassurance I needed to keep them pouring from my lips.

"And also because you've been where I am. You said it yourself that you hated certain things, certain people for the longest time, but the guy I met this summer… he doesn't act like someone still holding onto hate. He knows who he is, what he wants, and he's not afraid to go after it. Otherwise we wouldn't be here and I wouldn't be standing in this place _with you_."

I finally paused to take a long, deep breath, fully aware of my heart frantically pounding in my chest. Damon studied my face as I did, apparently waiting for more words to escape or my features to change.

Neither happened. Relief didn't seep into my system, only anxiety was present because I'd unloaded my truths onto him. And not in a subtle way either. I'd just tossed them all in his direction and he wasn't saying a goddamn thing in response.

Instead his eyes drifted throughout the room, apparently formulating his thoughts and the moment seemed to stretch into oblivion. Then his eyes finally settled back onto mine. Traces of understanding contrasted with the arcs of confusion on his expression when he asked, "So you want me to help you learn how to forgive him?"

"No," I disputed with a soft shake of my head. "I don't _want_ to forgive him and I don't know if I ever can. All I know is that I don't want my past or Stefan's actions directing my future anymore."

At that, the arcs of his expression transitioned into smile lines. "Elena, if you want my help, I'd be glad to offer it. But the fact that you're telling me this - already shows you're capable of doing that on your own."

I wasn't confident in my capabilities like Damon seemed to be; hell my entire body was still shaking just because I'd been honest for once. But he had a way of speaking phrases with such certainty that it was impossible to believe anything else. So I shrugged, causing his hands to slide against the bare skin of my shoulders, and said, "Maybe. I'd just rather have you there."

His head cocked to the side at the delivery of my last line. I hadn't realized how needy it sounded until it had already escaped, but found I was only halfway terrified by the thought of relying on someone other than strictly myself for once. I mean, I'd agreed to open myself and my heart up fully this summer. And I seemed to be doing just that. So why was I still shaking?

Damon's fingers swept along the curve of my neck and settled along my jawline. The liquid in my bloodstream seemed to hum under the contact as he whipped his brows into the air and challenged, "Even if that means spending time in this old place?"

I had to admit, the idea of spending my summer in this death trap didn't exactly sound like the most enticing of options, but I'd be here with Damon. And he'd be helping me. It was only fair I helped him in return.

So I rolled my eyes playfully and shook my head just slightly enough to keep his fingers from slipping off; I needed them to keep from spiraling towards the floor in a full blown anxiety attack. "Yeah, even then."

Then my lips inched forward to press against his, finally feeling the physical connection I'd been craving after my emotional release. Problem was, once I got the first taste I was eager to reach the same release with my body. But as my kisses became rougher to indicate where we were headed, Damon's pulled back and broke our fusion.

His brows dipped towards his nose as he asked incredulously, "Here? Now?"

"Absolutely," I breathed out shooting down to unite my lips with the smooth skin of his neck, the previously terrifying surroundings no longer a blip on my radar. All I wanted was him; all I needed at the moment was him.

But he captured the sides of face in the palms of his hands and held me in place. His eyes had already darkened, signifying he was right there with me when he commented, "Elena, we're eventually going to have to _talk_ about your past you know?"

"I know," I replied, my eyes pleading as I added, "But we can start tomorrow. Right now I just need this."

And he understood exactly what I meant. I needed the physical because it was comfortable. I'd entered into unchartered territories with him already tonight. My issues had been revealed and now he knew the reasons behind why I behaved the way I did. I was exposed, raw and no longer in complete control over what happened next.

But for the following moments I could regain my sense of control. I'd still be linking to him with the same heavy exposed heart, but in a way that felt most comfortable; one where I could still reach my release.

And when he sighed and brought his lips back against mine, I breathed out my own sigh of relief knowing we'd drifted back into familiar territory. The sigh was replaced by a moan as his fingers raked the sides of my waist, digging the red fabric into the skin and igniting heat from the friction. My body pressed flush against his, following his footsteps, as Damon led us towards an old chair in the room.

His lips broke contact when he whipped it from under the table and took a quick seat. He threw the bright apron over his head and onto the ground and then twined his fingers around my wrist, pulling me into his lap. As I lowered onto him, throwing a leg over each side, his nails ran along my silky stockings and pushed my fluttering dress towards the apex of my thigh.

Tingles instantly shot up my spine, but it wasn't from the contact of his fingers edging towards their desired location. It had everything to with the intense lock of his eyes with my own. It hadn't been the first time we'd held each other's gaze during the act, far from it actually, but this time it felt more powerful; unsettlingly powerful.

So I laced my arm around his neck and pulled his lips back against mine, replacing the connection with one more familiar, and teased, "Tyler's gonna kill you when he finds out you took that apron off."

"It'll be our little secret," he mused before slipping his tongue between my teeth to glide along my own.

One of my hands slid down Damon's chest, undoing each button of his shirt as I did, when the tips of his fingers finally slipped above the stocking and over one of the garter's belt straps. As my hand finally landed on the toned pectoral muscles under his shirt, he smirked against my mouth and purred, "I thought the stockings were good enough, but it seems you've outdone yourself."

I shivered at the pleasure in his words while his fingertips played with the strap and whispered against his lips, "You haven't even gotten to the best part. Keep going."

A low growl came from the back of his throat as his lips pressed more harshly against mine. And as one of Damon's hands relocated to the small of my back, pulling me to feel the effects of my attire, his other inched closer to my anticipating heat. My core was throbbing when his index finger slipped between my bare folds, forcing a moan from the contact and the smirk on his lips to grow wider.

"God, I love it when you make that sound," he conceded through wet kisses, trailing his way down my jawline and settling on the sweet spot of my neck. Whimpers escaped my parted lips as his warm tongue left scorch marks along my skin and his index finger dipped into my heated entrance.

Embracing the pleasure he was providing, I slid his button-down over his shoulders to reveal his torso and laced my arm around his back for support. As he worked wonders on my insides, my hips rocked against his finger and my nails dug into the flesh of his back. And when my body settled into a steady rhythm and my breathing began to accelerate, Damon removed his finger.

I hissed at the act, only to have Damon grab onto the hem of my dress and rip it over my head. At the sight of my chosen lingerie, his lids retracted and a territorial savageness darkened his eyes. With his hand no longer acting as a barrier, his shaft pressed against my sensitive entrance through the confinement of his jeans, sending more liquid lust spilling from my core.

I swayed my hips back and forth, desperate for more contact in the spot I was craving it most as Damon's hands slid up the creamy skin of my waist and onto the contrasting black, opaque lace covering my breasts. He seemed to be in a trance, one hand massaged the left while a thumb flicked over the pebbled bud of the right.

But when another pleasure-filled moan escaped from my lips and broke the silence, Damon's eyes shot up to meet mine. They were even darker than before, his face serious and carnal when he demanded, "I need to be inside you. Now!"

I nodded approvingly; it was the most I could accomplish with his hands on me the way they were and his bulge grinding beneath my thighs. He had a condom ripped from his pocket and his erection freed within the blink of an eye, which still felt entirely too long. And when I lowered myself just far enough to feel his head play with my entrance, I gathered every bit of strength I had to hold off.

My body hovered in the air, the miniscule amount of contact teasing my heightened state just as much as it teased Damon's, before his hands latched on to white knuckle my hips and he slammed me onto his lap. I released the familiar gasp at the sensation of him filling me and felt my muscles clench around his member.

No time was wasted before he started rocking me back and forth, the friction of our union spreading through my veins and igniting passion. My lips devoured his with harsh, rough kisses and my arms pulled his chest flush against mine. I wanted to feel him everywhere, not just in the heat rushing under my skin, but on every inch of my surface as well.

His fingers gripped onto my waist, pulling me back before plunging back in; somehow reaching deeper and deeper each time. Every thrust had air gushing from my lungs and another undecipherable sound escaping through my teeth and against Damon's. And when he slid his hand along my spin and settled on my back, I arched backwards against his touch, allowing him to hit that premium spot.

It only took three more strokes before the second release, the one I'd been craving to counterbalance my first, finally came. My eyes rolled back in my head, my toes curled inward and my body convulsed in his hold. My muscles tightened, griping around his length, and after a few more pumps, Damon reached his own release.

When my body settled into a satisfied humming state, I let my head fall onto his shoulder so my breathing could regulate. His hand traced soothing circles against the glistening skin of my back as our chests expanded and detracted in unison. Slowly our surroundings came back into focus and I allowed my eyes to drift around its contents. I still couldn't see the potential Damon saw in the place, but couldn't allow myself to doubt his judgment.

He'd chosen me, after all.

And with one last deeply satisfying breath of musty air, I lifted my chin from his shoulder and pulled back. My eyes linger around the room one last time before I finally brought them back to settle on the cerulean blue of Damon's. The connection I'd feared from before was still there, but in his post-sex, euphoric state, the intensity of his gaze had dulled enough to no longer feel unnerving.

My body relaxed further at the soothing image, a smile slipped up my lips, and I questioned, "Are you _sure_ this is something you want to take on?"

His hand extended to swipe a few strands of wet hair from my forehead as he chuckled softly. "I'm already too far invested to back out now."

"You can always back out," I countered. "I mean, this place needs a lot of work."

"I know I can, but I won't," he replied with a dejected shake of his head. His hand settled onto the nape of my neck, offering the perfect amount of support, when he leaned forward and ensured, "Because I'm pretty sure it's gonna be worth the effort."

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	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews and support for the last chapter and for being so patient on this one. Work kicked in to high gear over the past two weeks and I've honestly been so exhausted after the work-day that I haven't wanted to do anything besides relax. However, a few of you pushed me to get this chapter out, you know who you are, and it's because of you that I finally sat down and got it done. So, thanks for that too. :)**

_**Hope you all like it.**_

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><p>Four days after the night at Damon's future bar, I sat on his kitchen countertop. My legs swung away from the bottom cabinet and back, making a muffled bang each time they retracted against the old wood, as I watched him slide pancakes onto two plates. His contained a stack of plain while mine dawned little blue spheres from the blueberries I'd become accustomed to eating in the morning.<p>

I was chipper - who wouldn't be after the morning romp in Damon's sheets we'd had earlier – but that all changed when Damon looked over in my direction and suggested, "Since I don't have to head to class for another twenty minutes, I figured we could finish what we started talking about at the bar."

"Or we can talk about something else," I suggested back.

Since that night, we'd managed to steer clear from divulging any further into my past. It wasn't that Damon hadn't tried, he had, but I was a master at playing my goods correctly. Any inquiry into my past and the sexy minx inside me pounced. And when sex and my past were stacked side by side, Damon seemed incapable of choosing anything other than the option I preferred.

"Elena," he warned, rolling his eyes the same way he did whenever I tried to defer the conversation from this topic, as the two plates were set onto the countertop and he stepped in my direction.

"Better yet, baby," I started, using the term of endearment I'd only recently allowed into our relationship to spice up my offer. "I can think of something that doesn't require _any_ talking at all." And through heavy lids, my legs slowly parted, offering the same invitation as my words.

"Can you now?" Damon murmured as my hand extended towards his waist, my fingers fell to tug on his belt, and the heels of my bare feet dug into his ass, inching him closer.

The effect of my work was already present as his bulge caressed my center. And as my arms wrapped around his back and towards the base of his hairline, I purred, "Mhm," in between soft kisses along the arc of his neck.

"But what if I'm ready to talk?" he countered huskily. His fingers trailed their way down my spine, spreading a plane of goose bumps over my skin, before they landed on the elastic band of my pajama shorts.

"Then I'll try my best to keep it dirty," I seductively declared.

The tips of Damon's fingers played with the divot of my back when I drug my lips along his sweet spot and made my way north. When I reached my desired location, his eyes were three shades darker than normal. I hovered just beyond his touch, breathing his musky scent into my lungs, when I couldn't resist any longer. Leaning forward, my bottom lip pressed against his before I captured both in a languid kiss.

That familiar fire was burning in the base of my belly when Damon mused, "That _does_ sound enticing." And when his lips parted and his tongue met mine, I knew I'd won. There would be no talking about my past this morning.

The kiss had just started to get rougher when I felt his fingers twine with mine, peeling them from around his body and lifting them above my head. Responsively, my legs tightened around his waist, keeping him pressed against my front, when Damon pulled his lips from mine.

They dawned a wicked smirk, one I'd come to both loath and crave, when he declared, "But your trick's not gonna work this time."

"What trick?" I asked sheepishly, trying my best to mask the irritation. My arms were still locked over my head and against the cabinet so I lifted my ass from the countertop and arched my body to rub myself against his front. It was only partially for the sake of keeping him diverted. The other part was for my benefit. I'd managed to get myself all hot and bothered and the last thing I wanted was this act to end and my past to become the focal point. "It's not my fault that my sex drive kicks into high gear whenever you're around and my hands can't seem to keep themselves off of you."

"Oh, stop being cute," he retorted, cocking his head slightly to the side as he ignored my motions.

"It's impossible," I quipped back with an adorable smile lighting my features.

But it still yielded not results as Damon ignored my comment and continued, "And you know exactly what trick I'm referring to. The same one you've been using for days now. Using sex to shut me up isn't gonna cut it anymore."

"I'm pretty sure you've enjoyed every minute of it," I countered seductively, inching my face closer to his in an attempt to drive the convo back to where it was supposed to be headed.

"I never said I didn't. But Elena, you asked for my help, which means you consider me a good influence." He took a moment to shake his head in disbelief before his forehead came to rest against mine and his smirk reappeared. "After the shit I've done in the past I never thought that would happen. So I plan on taking my mentor role _very _seriously."

"I never asked for your help; I just wanted you to be with me," I reasoned softly because it was the truth. Spending time with Damon this summer had already started to do the trick of freeing me from Stefan's actions. I knew that I'd agreed to telling Damon more about my past, but it'd been in the heat of the moment. My match had been lit and I'd been ready to embrace the fire that came when we physically connected; I would have agreed to anything.

Plus, remembering the tears that I'd let escape during my initial info reveal, wasn't exactly the kindest reminder. I wasn't proud of that moment, of appearing weak, even if it was just in front of him. And I had no plan of repeating the act anytime soon.

So I pressed my forehead further into his and challenged, "And besides, you can't even say that without a smirk on your face. I hardly consider that being serious."

"You should know by now that the smirk doesn't indicate I don't mean what I say," he disputed with the thing still intact. He had a point, but it _really_ was difficult taking anything he said seriously while he was sporting the thing.

"And as for my help," he continued after pulling back and motioning his shoulders through a shrug. "I read between the lines. You piled on the compliments about where I'm at in life and said you wanted to be in the same place. It was simple math really, one plus one equals the two of us working to beat this past of yours and its hold over you."

"But _you_ said it yourself that I already proved it didn't have a hold over me," I argued, keeping my voice level as my body instinctively pulled forward against his hold, desperate to meld the broken contact of our chests. "I opened up to _you_."

"And that _does_ prove a lot, and I'm glad you did," he stressed through an emphatic head nod, before the smirk vanished from his lips and his features went rigid. "But can you honestly tell me that after this summer, you won't go back to keeping your secrets to yourself? You're still trying to do that now."

"I don't know, Damon," I huffed, twisting my wrists under the weight of his hands. I didn't like being cornered, not emotionally and certainly not physically, but it appeared I'd become both. "But talking about it really isn't what I had in mind. All I wanted was to spend time with you this summer since it seems to be doing the trick already."

"And what happens when I'm no longer around when you go back to school?" he blatantly asked. "Are you really going to be willing to divulge your secrets to the next guy that pops up?"

The reminder that we were inevitably staring down the barrel of a fall break-up hit harder than I'd expected. And Damon's matter-of-fact delivery only twisted the knife in my stomach more. That combined with the sexual frustration currently coursing through me and the discomfort of being cornered resulted in an explosion; one that led to my emotional shut down.

His eyes were still trying to bore into me, the same unnerving way they had at the bar, as I stared straight back at him and asserted, "I'm done talking about this."

He released a frustrated sigh and freed my hands as his fell to my sides and onto the countertop. We were still in the same position; my legs straddling him and his chest only inches from my own. Without Damon taking a step back, I was still locked in place.

"That right there is what I'm trying to help you with," he released along with another sigh.

"What?" I spat back, flicking my wrists through the air in an attempt to get the blood re-circulating through my fingertips.

Damon lifted his hands to capture both of mine, forcing my attention on him instead of the limbs. When I rolled my eyes and finally lifted them to meet the cobalt blue of his, he insisted, "Your fear."

His thumbs made small circles against the soft skin of my hands, but the act did little to sooth my frantic pulse. I wasn't just enraged, I was embarrassed because it was one thing to corner me and force me to face my issues, but it was another to throw my fear into the mix.

Talk about appearing weak.

So, I shook my head defiantly and ripped my hands from his. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't?" he spat back, adhering his hands to the countertops at my sides, successfully locking me in place yet again. "Have you even talked to Stefan about what happened?"

My eyes narrowed at the mere mention of Stefan's name, but it was the most I could do to refute Damon's accusation. I hadn't seen Stefan since that night, but it had everything to do with my anger towards him, not my fear.

Damon nodded at my silence and edged his face slightly closer. "How about your parents?" he asked. "When was the last time you visited them?"

Two years ago, my mind supplied. It was the last time I'd been able to drag myself to their grave site. The image and knowledge that I'd played a part in the reason they were there was too difficult to handle, so I kept my distance. I still talked to them all of the time, just not at the graveyard.

Damon sighed at my silence, getting my answers without needing to hear the words. He then lifted his hands to capture my cheeks, collecting a few strands of chocolate hair in the process. There was sadness tainting the usual soothing blue of his irises as he asked, "Do you even talk about it with anyone?"

At that, I'd had enough. I wasn't the girl who stood by and let someone else throw all of my issues onto the floor. I was the one who fought back, got angry and irrational because facing my problems wasn't exactly an enjoyable experience; just as Caroline.

So I screamed, "Just let me go, Damon," and threw his hands from my face, using the palms of mine to push his torso back from the countertop. It offered space for me to hoist myself from the granite and take a few steps towards the kitchen door.

"Fine, but the other night, you were the one with a mission this summer, not me," he called from my back. His voice was rational, but still elevated like mine as he added, "I'm not even going to pretend to know what changed, but I want to let _you_ know that I get it. What you went through was difficult, but I'm trying to show you that you can keep your scars without limiting yourself."

His tone singed my insides and I knew that I should've just continued walking right through the door, but my temper wouldn't let me. Damon had won out every other time we'd had a stand-off, but there was no way I was going to let him come out of this one the victor. He'd known me for just a little over a month and there was no possible way he knew me as well as he thought he did. And it was time to force him to slip up on his own words.

So, I whipped around and threw my arms across my chest as I smugly asked, "Limiting myself? And how exactly do you think I'm limiting myself?"

"Oh, c'mon Elena," he spat out in frustration, his hands lifted in the air and his head cocked to the side. "You were terrified to get on my motorcycle and I'm pretty sure it had to do with the fact that it lacked four protective sides. You have a 2 drink limit. You've had your steels walls in place since I met you…"

"I got on your motorcycle and you've seen me drunk before," I interjected, shouting over his level.

"Not without some heavy coercing on my part," he refuted before his index finger shot into the air. "And once, I've seen you drunk once."

I snorted at his accusations and violently shook my head through the air. "Most would consider that drink limit responsible and as for the walls, I hardly see what's wrong with keeping myself protected."

"And you wouldn't because to you it feels safe," he heatedly reasoned, frustration present on every surface of his body. Who would have thought that just moments ago, we'd both been in a completely different position, ready to spend the morning breaking in the countertops?

"But the problem is everything that you're missing out on," he stressed, the blue of his eyes igniting a fierce hue of blue.

"I'm not missing out on anything!" I adamantly refuted, feeling the heat rush under the surface of my cheeks. "I'm here with you having fun this summer like _you_ insisted and enjoying fabulous sex in the process. Or at least I was!"

Damon slashed his head from side to side and corrected, "I'm not talking about physical, Elena, I'm talking about your relationships."

"They're fine too," I dismissed with a scoff because they were.

At that, Damon released a humorless laugh before his eyes readjusted to concentrate solely on mine. "So you talk to them about your past? Jenna, Caroline, Bonnie?"

"No," I clipped, venom practically dripping from my teeth. "Why is that important?"

"Because that's what they're there for," he stressed, taking a step in my direction. "If you'd talked to them sooner, maybe you wouldn't be here with me fighting over how to move on."

My rage boiled over at that point. I no longer had control over what came from my mouth, so I blackened my eyes with as much heat I could manufacture and unleashed it in Damon's direction. "We're not fighting because I don't talk to my friends and family about my past. We're fighting because you're being an ass!"

"Why?" he shouted back, matching the same level of fire I'd launched his way before stomping directly in front of me. His face came to rest slightly above mine, forcing me to look up into the sweltering blue flames dancing in his eyes as he accused, "Because I'm actually confronting you instead of tip toeing around and playing the role you want me to play?"

"I never wanted you to play a role, Damon, I just wanted you to _be there_," I argued responsively, only realizing the pleaded edge and truth of that statement seconds after it had fired from my lips.

At the words, the blaze in his eyes seemed to diminish and the rigid set of his features fell slightly. He didn't reach out for me, he was smarter than to think either one of us was ready for contact, but the tone of his voice dropped slightly as he stressed, "And I'm here, but I can't sit back anymore and pretend that all of these walls don't make a difference because they do. You're making mistakes just like I did and I can help you, but you just have to let me."

"From the stories you told me, it doesn't sound like you limited yourself at all," I countered because how was he supposed to understand what I was going through if he hadn't been through it as well, like he was insisting.

"And I didn't. I did the opposite of what you're doing and I didn't have _any_ limitations," he admitted. "But I still got the same results. I only trusted those I'd known before my dad died and I didn't stay in one place long enough to give a shit about anyone else."

"And why is that so terrible?" I asked, truly curious to know the answer because I felt satisfied with those I had in my current circle. I couldn't see a true need for anyone other than those I already had. "You still had everyone from before."

My voice must have finally come out in a rational tone; I didn't notice, but Damon seemed to, because for the first time since our argument started, the ghost of a smile played on his lips. His forehead dipped down to once again rest against my own as he answered, "Because if I hadn't hit rock bottom and realized how empty my life had become, I would have never met Ric and I wouldn't care enough to stand here, trying to help you."

Tingles swept over my skin. And I'm not sure if it had more to do with the contact, the truth behind everything he'd pointed out, the logic behind his reasoning, or the fact that Damon just insinuated how much I meant to him. But it didn't matter because, whatever the reason, it made me realize that he was still here. After the venomous words that I'd spewed and the countless times I'd tried to push him away – he was still here, trying to fix someone who didn't even realize that she needed to be fixed until a second ago.

And that dedication hit me like a sucker-punch straight to the chest. I hadn't been expecting it and I certainly hadn't prepared myself for it, but suddenly emotional waves ripped through my body. I tried my best to hold it off, but my previous anger, discomfort, rage, and yes, even fear, gushed through my sockets and tumbled down my cheeks.

"I get that you're trying to help me, Damon," I cried out, "but you have to understand that my boyfriend murdered my parents. I'm kind of a wreck and it's not easy for me, but I'm trying my best."

At the sight of my tears, Damon eliminated any remaining space between us. I initially tried to fight off his arms as they laced around my body; I wanted to show him that I was stronger than this, but found it too difficult to resist. In all honesty, I felt frail after my outbursts to Damon and confrontation with my issues. And I was well aware that I'd let myself cry in his presence again. But as I finally let myself fall into his hold, his chin rested on my crown, keeping the site of my blotchy drenched face hidden, while the rest of him supported my weight.

I hated to admit the comfort of being supported by someone else, especially during an instance like this. When memories and emotions were pulling me under like a riptide, Damon was the only thing keeping me afloat. And even though I was still tainted with previous anger, it was easy to comprehend why I always found myself drifting back to his arms.

When my traitorous tears finally stopped falling down my cheeks, I managed to pull myself from the life-raft that was Damon's hold. My pulse had just started to settle when he stroked a few pieces of matted hair from my forehead and tucked them behind my ear, eliminating all obstacles between our locked eyes.

As I looked into that concerned blue and he said, "I know it's not easy and it's not going to be, but I'm not going to stop pushing you," I could feel the comfortable anger still brewing. Old habits sure did die hard, and it would've been so easy to revert back to what felt secure; to just throw my rage back into his face and walk away from everything Damon was forcing me to confront.

But after this, I knew that I couldn't get through this summer without Damon, for so many more reasons than I'd initially assumed. And if he was willing to stick by my side after all I'd put him through, just for the sake of helping me heal, than he deserved that dedication from me.

So, I pulled my lips into a smile. It felt unnatural at first until I saw the reaction it brought to his features. That simple motion had Damon's face alighting with something I couldn't quite pin down, but it was breathtaking.

"You _are_ a resilient piece of work, aren't you?" I quipped through a weak embarrassed laugh.

Damon chuckled in response at the resurfacing of my typical self and shrugged his shoulders. "I've been called worse," he rationalized before his expression suddenly became serious. "But, Elena, I need to ask you one question and I need you to answer me honestly."

He paused long enough for me to simply shake my head, and asked, "When was the last time you did something that made you vulnerable?"

I thought about the intimate moment we'd just shared, where his strength had been the only thing keeping me from tumbling to the floor. And I answered, "This," knowing all too well it didn't just have to do with that single moment a few seconds ago, but everything that came with Damon.

A light sparked in his eyes at my answer, but he attempted to hide it by narrowing his lids and specified, "Without over-thinking it a million times in your head?"

And that, I really only had one honest answer for. "I can't remember."

"Well then," he replied with a smile on his lips as the tips of his fingers played with my jawline. "I think it's about time we changed that."

"And what makes you think I'm willing to take your help?" I challenged with faux disinterest. "I still haven't agreed."

Damon's lashes drifted down and his face inched forward before his lips pressed against mine. The kiss was gentle; precisely what I needed after the emotional breakdown I'd just been through, before he pulled back and let his hand slide down to twine his fingers in mine.

"Because you're here," he answered.

I knew exactly what I was getting myself into; I knew it completely. But I'd finally come to terms with what spending the summer with Damon entailed and if that was the only amount of time I'd get with him, I'd do anything to keep him around. Even if that meant, confronting my past head on.

At least I had him to support me if I needed it again.

So I nodded in confirmation and proclaimed, "I am."

Damon squeezed my fingers between his and replied, "Good," before releasing the hold and making his way to the kitchen counter. As he reached down and picked up the two stacks of pancakes and made his way over to the table, he added, "Because we still have about ten minutes before I need to get to class and two stacks of luke-warm pancakes to eat. So why don't you tell me your favorite memory of your parents. I'd really like to know it."

"Why that?" I questioned, making my over to take a seat at the table.

He'd just lifted a forkful of pancake to his mouth, when he paused to look at me, really look at me. "Because you promised me the other night that I could get to know the real you and only the real you would be able to answer that question."

At his mention of the _real_ me, the familiar fear that Damon had not-so-subtly pointed out earlier, crept down my spine before I pushed it off. I'd known it was coming, expected it, but this time I'd been prepared to fight it off.

So as I pressed my own fork into the stack of blueberry pancakes, I replied, "Okay," and pushed open the door to give Damon a peek of the real me.

* * *

><p>"This is Jenna we're talking about," Caroline argued against Bonnie's suggestion. "I just think a strip club is a bit too risky for the bachelorette party."<p>

We'd been in my old living room for two hours now, shooting ideas back and forth, but it appeared my friend's had finally gotten fed up with the other's taste.

"Exactly, Caroline, it's Jenna," Bonnie spat back from the loveseat across the room. "The same girl that used to buy us booze when we were under-age."

I chuckled a bit as the memory of Jenna sneaking me Smirnoff Ice's flashed through my mind, when Caroline's raised voice brought me back to the present. "Yes, but that was then. She's older now; responsible."

"You talk about her like she belongs in an elderly home. She's 33, not 80," Bonnie disputed, with a disgusted shake of her dark locks. "And I'm pretty sure her naughty bits haven't dried up yet."

Caroline made a face of disproval at Bonnie's last statement before she recomposed herself and reasoned, "I'm not suggesting we sit around and knit blankets for her future children, but I think a strip club is too raunchy."

I was still trying to get the thought of my aunt's 'forbidden zone' out of my head, when Caroline turned on me. The connection with her blue-grey eyes was startling as she stressed, "Don't you agree, Elena?"

I'd successfully managed to remain a bystander for the better part of this argument, but thanks to Caroline, all spotlights were now directed on me. "Well," I started, not really sure where to go from there. Either way I chose, I'd be backing one of my friends and turning my shoulder to the other. That was how they'd see it, at least. Inevitably, I was going to lose one way or the other.

So after a preparatory sigh, my eyes shifted between my best friends before finally settling on the blonde. "Well, I have to agree with Bonnie on this one. It's a bachelorette party," I started to reason.

"Precisely," Bonnie chimed in, a smug grin only accentuating her victory. "It's her last chance to indulge in random men."

"That's not what I was saying," I tried to correct.

But she simply swatted me off, and replied, "You don't have to admit it. But at least now we have a solid activity figured out. We just need to narrow down the location." She jotted the plan onto one of the pieces of paper littering the coffee table before looking up at us. "Do you want to scout out potential joints tonight?"

Caroline, who still seemed a bit hurt that I hadn't backed her anti-smutty choice for bachelorette themes, shook her head and declined. "Sorry, but it's mother-daughter evening tonight at the Forbe's household."

"And I already promised Damon I'd help him with the bar tonight," I confessed.

Bonnie snorted and rolled her eyes at my excuse before mocking, "Surprise, surprise."

Defensively, I scootched forward on the sofa and shot her a heated look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh c'mon Elena, you're there almost every night," she explained, the judgment blatant in her tone. "Either you're doing the nasty in the bar or you've finally fallen off the deep end. Probably a little of both."

My mind had just started spinning from Bonnie's accusations when the blonde on my right jumped in. "Why is it any concern of yours whether Elena's spending her time with Damon?"

At the intrusion, Bonnie shot Caroline a heated look. Annoyance was dripping from her expression as she justified, "Because she's my best friend and I don't want to see her getting hurt."

Caroline returned her look and rationalized, "I really doubt someone who's helping Elena with her past would suddenly change up their motives and hurt her."

"Caroline!" I gasped as my best friend released valuable information I'd been keeping from the other.

I wasn't ashamed of what I was doing with Damon and truthfully, I was beginning to feel more comfortable with our talks about my past. But Bonnie had very opinionated views on what should be revealed in relationships and I wasn't exactly following her guidelines. It wasn't that I hadn't being honest with her; I'd simply left out information from our discussions for the sake of keeping her happy.

But now, thanks to Caroline and her big mouth, Bonnie was no longer out of the loop on what exactly was happening between Damon and myself.

Bonnie's eyes shifted over to meet mine, unleashing the full brunt of her judgment as they did. "Wait, what?" she spat out, incredulous, he finger pointed in Caroline's direction. "Please tell me she just got a little carried away and you're not really talking to Damon about your past."

I debated lying to her. It would save me from the ashamed glare Bonnie was shooting me now and it would save her the heart attack I could only assume was right around the corner, but I couldn't. She was one of my best friends, and like Damon had instructed, needed to know the truth.

So I shook my head slowly and refuted hesitantly, "I can't say that."

"What are you thinking?" she cried out, throwing her hands on her head dramatically. "Do you realize what you're doing to yourself?"

"You're the only one who sees the problem with Damon helping Elena," Caroline interjected, yet again. "So why don't you enlighten us," she added sarcastically.

Bonnie shot the blonde another one of her famous death glares and exasperated, "She doesn't need help! He knows her weaknesses now and can easily use them against her. Plus, when he realizes he's bored with the relationship, she's the one who's going to end up hurt."

"Not every guy gets bored like you, Bonnie, and maybe if you actually met Damon, you'd understand he's different from the guys you go for," Caroline spat back.

"Oh, I forgot, you're chummy with the guy," Bonnie chided. "I'm sure a lot of this is your fault."

"Maybe if you spent more time hanging around instead of out with God knows who, then you'd see he's great for her!" Caroline called out.

Bonnie threw her arms defiantly across her chest and declared, "Not gonna happen."

Caroline scoffed at the immature action and accused, "Don't you see, your narrow-minded view on relationships has kept her from entering a healthy one for the past three years."

"_My_ narrow-minded view?" Bonnie yelled with wild, wide eyes.

"Yes!" Caroline shouted back.

"She's 21, Caroline, not 30," Bonnie retorted. "She can play the field if she wants to."

"What if she doesn't want to?" Caroline challenged.

I'd officially become a forgotten entity in the room as my friend's opinions on my love life finally came to a head. I didn't like them fighting over my choices, especially considering they were _my_ choices, but also because I was finally comfortable with those choices. I'd elected to open up to Damon, I'd ping-ponged the decision around enough on my own for it to cause anymore drama amongst my friends.

So I threw my hands into the air and screamed, "Guys, please! I can't take it anymore!"

All bickering ceased at my interruption. With both mouths dangling slightly open at my outburst and two sets of eyes penetrating into mine, I added, "I get that you're both just looking out for me in your own way and that you have different views on relationships but this one's _mine_."

"I just don't want to see you get hurt," Bonnie tried to reason softly, all heat from her previous battle with Caroline vacant.

"And I love you for that," I stressed with a reassuring smile. "But you'll be happy to know that Damon and I are just together this summer. After that, I head back to college and we both know it'll be over. He brought it up a few days ago. So don't worry about it."

I then shifted my eyes over to the ashamed looking blonde on the couch. "And Caroline, I followed your advice and I've opened myself up. I'm working through stuff and Damon's a big part of that," I reasoned. "However; at the end of the summer, it _will_ come to an end and I need you to accept that."

After a moment's hesitation, she simply nodded in understanding, apparently still too nervous to speak again.

Feeling satisfied with her response, my eyes drifted over to Bonnie and back to Caroline again as I questioned, "Alright, so you guys both understand? No more fighting about my love life this summer?"

They both nodded their heads and I couldn't help but feel a little smug over the effects of my outburst. I'd managed to shut both of my friends up, including Bonnie. However, we were here for a reason; one that required discussion. So I sighed and stated, "Good, because we're here to talk about Jenna's bachelorette party, not me."

I'd just reached forward to grab the most updated sheet of paper with Jenna's party info scrawled on it, when Bonnie spoke up, "Alright, but before we do, can you just answer one thing?"

With the sheet of paper resting under my fingers, I looked up towards my ebony friend and nodded.

"Do you really know what you're doing with Damon?" she asked softly, traces of genuine concern trailing out along with the words.

"No, I don't," I answered with a smile. Because for the first time, that concept wasn't terrifying.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

_Follow me on Twitter and Tumblr: morvamp_

_**A/N**_**_:_ This chapter came out MUCH differently than I had intended, but after I wrote it, I couldn't go back and change the DE scene. Elena is an emotional mess, and it just didn't seem natural to me that she'd finally give in to Damon without a heated argument where he acknowledged her flaws. I mean, heated arguments are their style. Plus, I'd been dying to throw feisty Damon into the mix.**

_**And FYI**_**_:_ Work is still going to be extremely busy for about another month, so my updates might not be as frequent as before. I'll try and write as much as I can, but I just wanted to give you all the heads up. Thanks in advance for your patience.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Goodness gracious. It's been so long since I've updated this story. I'm so sorry for my delay, but like I warned, work infiltrated my life and left no free time whatsoever. Then a one-shot demanded to be written before I got back to this. However; on a positive note, work has finally returned to normal, so updates for this should as well. And hopefully I haven't lost your interest because we still have a way to go.**

**For those of you still around, thanks for being patient. I really appreciate your support.**

_**Hope you like the chapter.**_

* * *

><p>Unappealing sounds escaped through the crack of the bathroom door as Jenna heaved up any remainder of what I could only assume was last night's dinner, if there possibly anything left. She hadn't eaten a thing since, but she'd paid four visits to the porcelain toilet this morning alone. I didn't even want to begin to add up the times she'd been in their throughout the night.<p>

As another batch of something hit the cold water of the awaiting bowl, my hand instinctively reached for the door handle before I pulled it back. I wanted to be there for her, if only for moral support, but she'd insisted she be left alone. It was understandable, considering how unflattering the image of matted hair, bloodshot eyes, and popping veins along the neckline truly was, but it took everything in me to remain patiently waiting in the hallway.

Typically, I would have pushed aside Jenna's pleas for bearing her food poisoning solo, but not after Ric had already been banished from the house for being too clingy. I'd heard the exchange earlier this morning and after the fourth trip following a reluctant Jenna into the bathroom with a firm grip on her sweat drenched hair, she'd had enough. Brutal words were thrown and ultimately, he'd been told, not so nicely, to vacate the premises before she missed the toilet next time and aimed for his shirt.

That left me on sick aunt duty while Ric helped Damon and Tyler sand the floors of Damon's up and coming bar. Luckily for me, the difference between Ric and I was that I understood how to handle Jenna in these situations. You approached the situation with normal chatter, threw in some gossip, and absolutely no babying, whatsoever.

So as the toilet flushed and she came stumbling out of the bathroom, all sunken-eyed and obvious annoyance, I crossed my arms over my chest and teased, "Feeling better yet?"

A ghost of a smile played at the corner of my aunt's lips before she shook her head slowly and deadpanned, "I'm feelin' like a million bucks after that one. Now help me to the couch."

"Oh, you want my help now?" I chided as my arm slipped delicately around my aunt's sensitive waist.

Jenna latched onto my shoulder as I led her slowly down the hallway. Once she was properly settled and I'd handed her a glass of ice water, she rolled her eyes and muttered, "I'll always want your help."

"But not Ric's," I clarified, taking a seat in the armchair beside her.

A weak laugh sounded from Jenna's lips before her hands gripped around her angry tummy. And after a few seconds of recollecting herself, her eyes swooped up to meet mine. "Not when he's asking me if I'm alright every four seconds."

My head shook back and forth before I rolled my eyes and teased, "He should know better by now."

"You'd think," she agreed as we both fell into a comfortable roll of laughter.

It lasted a few seconds before I felt the need to add, "But in his defense, it took me years to understand how to handle you when you're sick. You don't exactly make it easy."

"Point taken," Jenna replied as she mulled my accusation around her head. After another waves of giggles, she laid her head to rest of the sofa cushion behind her and dictated, "But enough about me. Let's switch topics to something more entertaining."

Already, we'd approached the gossip portion of the day and my eyes instinctively rolled beneath their lids because I already knew what topic she'd want to address. "Let me guess…"

"Oh yeah," she interrupted with narrowed eyes and a conniving grin stretched across her lips. "How are things with you and Damon?"

Images of our recent interactions lately and words from our discussions blasted through my mind. We'd spent a great deal of time digging into my past and the way it effected the choices I made now and it was safe to say I'd told him more than I'd told anyone since the night my parents had been taken from me; including the woman in front of me.

Not all of our interactions had been easy; most had been loaded with heat which had been extinguished later with physical activity. And there was still much more to come, of that I was absolutely positive, since we hadn't even gotten to the 'acting without thinking' part of my healing process Damon had warned me about. But already, I could feel the effects of what he was doing to me.

And as my aunt's inviting eyes stared back at me, waiting for an answer to her question, I replayed the moment I'd shared with Damon in his kitchen. The one where he'd expressed the importance of opening up to my friends and family.

The truth of what I was really doing this summer with Damon danced across the back of my tongue, anxious to escape but foreign to experience. I wasn't used to being this open about my love-life, and the urge to just shoot out a typical, "Fine," or "Great," was permanent, but for some reason, I wanted to follow through on what Damon had insisted was healthy. I wanted to tell her that he was helping me heal.

So I took a deep breath to prepare myself when Jenna shook her head and spoke up first.

"I know, I know; you hate talking about your relationships," she said as her hand flipped through the air. There wasn't judgment in her tone, just general understanding. "And since you've been so good with me this morning, I'll spare you that question and instead ask how Caroline and Bonnie are handling your relationship."

And just like that, I'd been freed from the moment I'd fully prepared myself to enter. I could have deviated back to the first question, the uncomfortable one, but not when the out was so easy to take.

So I took it and playfully rolled my eyes before questioning, "Do you even need to ask?"

"Not really," she answered along with a soft giggle. "I just enjoy watching you explain it."

I laughed in response, understanding all too well how much my aunt already knew the way my two best friend's had responded to Damon and me as an item; not because I'd told her, but because she'd seen us all grow up. She knew what each of them brought to the friendship. So I kept my response vague.

"Well Caroline's all support and endless optimism, while Bonnie's," I answered before pausing to search for the right way to explain Bonnie. I finally settled on, "The exact opposite."

Jenna nodded in understanding, and replied, "Bonnie _was _always the cynical one of your bunch."

"Yes she was," I agreed.

"But it's understandable," she justified with a shrug of the shoulders before locking her eyes on mine. "I just hope you don't let it spoil what you and Damon have."

And before I could pull them back into my mouth, the words, "And what do Damon and I have?" fell out. It was a common sarcastic response now, since everyone seemed to have an opinion on what Damon and I were doing this summer. Problem was, I just wasn't sure I was ready to handle Jenna's answer, or the maturity that came behind it.

"A fun summer romance," she answered with nonchalance, causing my brows to peak. I certainly hadn't been expecting a response as simple as that, but it'd been what I'd been hoping for. Right? When I said nothing in response, her mature eyes flicked up to mine as she asked the very question I'd internally asked myself, "Right?"

Ignoring the disgruntled churn in the pit of my tummy, I nodded and agreed, "Right."

Her eyes remained fixed on mine, apparently assessing my response or waiting for more, when I reached towards the coffee table and picked up the remote. The weight of her eyes was substantial as I flicked on the tube. Apparently, she was still expecting more and when it became clear she wouldn't be receiving anything else, her eyes drifted to the television as well.

We sat in comfortable silence as a few scenes of 'How I Met Your Mother' played on the screen. I had no idea what was filtering through her mind, but for me, my thoughts could only concentrate on one thing and for the first time, it had absolutely nothing to do with me, even despite being the last topic of conversation.

Instead it had everything to do my aunt's relationship. The frustrated sighs and heated exchanges I'd been hearing lately through the thin walls of the house. And the way she'd practically thrown him out the front door this morning, which normally wouldn't have raised my suspicions if the former hadn't been occurring.

When I was no longer capable of watching Ted Mosby complain about the time span it was taking to find his wife, I turned to my aunt and asked, "Jenna?"

"Yeah?" she replied, eyes still focused on the television.

I let out a sigh, wishing I had it in me to resist prying into her love life. Normally I wouldn't have given a rat's ass, but there was something about Alaric that felt genuine and I couldn't deny how happy Jenna was in his presence.

So I just came out and asked the question that had been on my mind all day. "I know better than to pry too much when you're like this, but do I need to be worried?"

"Worried about what?" she questioned as confusion wrinkles appeared on her forehead.

"You and Ric," I answered, "And the fighting that's been going on lately."

At that, she paused and took a long sigh. I'm not sure what I had been expecting; tears, a brush off maybe, certainly not the smile that spread over her lips as she asked, "Elena Gilbert, have you been worried?"

"No," I answered automatically, hating the way she looked at me. But when her eyes didn't drift from mine, I felt myself surrender to the truth as I shrugged my shoulders and corrected, "Maybe."

The smile on her face only extended to plump up her cheeks further when she shook her head and jabbed, "It's okay, I won't tell Ric you actually care."

I rolled my eyes and shot back a sarcastic, "Thank you."

She return my eye roll with a laugh before finally reaching over and placing her hand on my shoulder. Suddenly, all traces of our previous humor vanished when she assured, "But you don't need to be worried. We've just been bickering, same as every couple does."

I knew my aunt better than almost anyone and it was certain in her hazy blue eyes that she believed in what she was saying. And if she believed it, then why shouldn't I?

So I nodded in acceptance, shot her a small smile, and replied, "Okay."

Jenna withdrew back to her lounging position on the couch and we'd just fallen back into comfortable silence, when she turned on me again. "You know," she started, forcing my eyes from the screen, "You're mother told me something a long time ago when I heard her yelling with your father. It soothed my worries back then and ever since I've held onto its truth."

"And that was?" I inquired.

"There's no need to worry when your man fights with you," she answered. "You only need to worry when he stops. Because that's when you've stopped meaning enough to him."

She didn't wait for a response and instead let the statement sink in as her eyes drifted back to the tube. I contemplated the statement a moment, before lifting my brows and teasing, "Well, I guess you and Ric and doing just fine then."

Once again, she smiled, apparently pleased with my response, and with her eyes still transfixed on the screen, she replied, "And apparently so are you and Damon. I hear things too, you know."

* * *

><p>Even at 9oclock at night, the heat of the day's sunlight still consumed the air as I pushed open the wooden door of Damon's future bar and took a step inside. Inside, the establishment felt like a greenhouse, easily reaching towards the hundreds mark on a standard thermometer, which made me seriously appreciate my wardrobe decision.<p>

I was sporting a thin camisole and cotton shorts, perfect for whatever labor Damon had in store for me this evening. And when the first batch of perspiration dotted along my neck, my hands went to pull my hair up in a long ponytail. I'd just twisted the elastic band for the third time around my locks when Damon turned around and noticed my entrance.

There was no t-shirt concealing the ripple of abs I'd come to appreciate and a trail of perspiration dipped between his pecs. Dirt covered almost every surface and it was safe to say, the room suddenly felt 20 degrees warmer.

His eyes walked themselves along my bare skin, covering every inch in slow appreciative fashion when he finally cocked his head to the side and teased, "You look ravishing."

A smile spread over my lips at his compliment, when I took a few steps towards him and replied, "Oh, shut it. Ric finally freed me from Jenna duty so I figured I'd stop by to offer up my assistance."

"Well isn't that supportive of you," he remarked as his hand slid around my waist, pulling me against him as his lips pressed into mine.

"I thought so," I said as I pulled back, lifting my finger to slide across the glistened skin of his chest.

He watched my actions a moment, the shade of his cobalt blues darkening in the process, before he lifted them to mine. "But as much as I'd love to see you down on all fours sanding away, I'm done for the day."

"Pity," I muttered, still focused on my attention to his chest.

"It is," he mused, understanding exactly what I intended to do with our new free time. His eyes followed the patterns my finger drew against his chest a few seconds longer before he finally took a deep sigh. "However, there's one last thing I could use your help with."

My lips plumped into a pout as his arm slid from around my waist. "And that is?"

"Grab that hammer," Damon directed as his answer while he reached into his sack on the floor and pulled out a pair of nails.

I did as I was told, determined to get this one last task out of the way so we could embark on a little fun. As I lifted the hammer into the air, I inquired, "And what exactly am I doing with this?"

He grabbed it from my hand and replaced it with one of the two nails. "You're not doing anything besides holding this nail in place."

"You take all of the fun out of things," I chided as he led me across the bar.

He narrowed his eyes playfully in my direction and retorted, "We both know that's the furthest from the truth."

"Do we?" I challenged through raised brows, an adorable smile gracing my lips.

"If it makes you feel better, I'll let you operate the circular saw when we start putting the bar together," he offered through a chuckle. "But for now, just hold the nail still."

As he properly positioned my fingers around the nail and placed it against a wooden board, I questioned, "So why do you need my help with this? I'm sure you're perfectly capable of holding your own nail."

At that, he turned and shot me a wicked smirk. "Well, because my eyes are going to be shut."

"Wait," I interjected, whipping the nail and my hand back against my chest. "What?"

"Yep," he replied before grabbing my hand and lifting it back up to place. "Now just hold it still. I don't want to hurt you."

But I ripped my hand back down and argued, "You just told me that your eyes are going to be shut when you nail this in, I can't see an outcome where I won't get hurt."

His head shook back and forth through the air. An amused grin played on the edges of his lips as he reprimanded, "You have little faith in me."

"No, I have complete faith in you," I corrected, finding it difficult to understand how he appeared so nonchalant about this stupid act. "However; that faith tends to waver a bit when you start acting insane."

Damon lowered his head to my level and faked offense at the statement. "You're being a bit dramatic, don't you think?"

"And I repeat, you're acting a bit insane," I declared, doing my best to wrap my mind around what he was really asking me to do. Why was the concept of hanging out like a normal couple so freaking foreign to Damon?

He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes, as if my resisting this little experience was the most absurd choice I could have possibly made, before he pushed his forehead to rest against my own. "Elena, remember when I told you that you'd eventually have to start acting without over-thinking?"

I nodded slowly as that particular moment in his kitchen played throughout my mind.

"Well this is one of those moments. And you're over-thinking," he urged.

He'd given me fair warning that instances like this would arise in the future, so I'd been holding my breath until they happened. Still, I didn't understand how holding a nail in place while he randomly brought a heavy hammer smashing down on my fingers had anything to do with working through my issues.

So I challenged, "I really don't see what point you're trying to prove with this."

"You will," he stressed, pressing his forehead further into mine. His eyes penetrated into me and the familiar genuine interest and compassion was present in every centimeter of blue as he insisted, "Please. I promise I won't hurt you."

I was such a sucker for that blue and he knew it. And I was even bigger sucker when it came to giving him what he wanted. But in one last attempt, I threw my anxiety behind my chocolate orbs, and pleaded, "Damon."

But he simply smiled in response and ran the pad of his thumb against the line of my jaw. And with one last, "I promise," he lifted my hand back against the wood and directed, "Just hold still."

And for some ungodly reason, my hand stayed in place. The nail squeezed between my fingertips and my heart was slamming in my ears. With my eyes squeezed shut and my breath held in the back of my throat, I waited anxiously for him to hit the head of the nail.

But instead of the pressure I'd been expecting against my fingertips, nothing came. And after a few more second of holding my breath in anticipation, I opened my eyes only to see Damon with the hammer resting against his shoulder and a pleased smirk on his lips. He'd been watching me while I internally freaked out.

Rage shot through my veins, aiding life to my previously tense limbs as my palms slammed against his chest. "What the hell?" I screamed, suddenly furious that he got me all worked up for nothing.

"What was the freaking point of that?" I spat out as my little fists continued to collide with the toned-muscle of his chest.

He laughed at my outburst, apparently finding humor in the situation I clearly wasn't and feeling no effect of my fists as they slammed against his flesh. When oxygen started shooting from my lungs in harsh breaths, he finally lifted his hands to take hold of mine. Frustration was still coursing through my exerted body when he stopped laughing and questioned, "Why would you let me do that with my eyes closed?"

A fresh wave of anger flooded my eyes, when I shouted back, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

He released my hands then and slipped that cocky smirk across his lips again. I wanted nothing more than to smack it off his face when he repeated slowly, "Why would you let me do that with my eyes closed?"

"Because you told me to," I shouted back.

But he shook his head dejectedly through the air and replied, "Not good enough." Then his hands reached out to grip onto my shoulders as he directed, "Think, really think. Now tell me why did you let me do that?"

I scoffed and shook myself free of his hold. "First you told me I was overthinking, and now you're telling me to think. Which one do you want, Damon, cause you're directions are giving me whiplash."

"Just calm down, take a deep breath, and tell me why you just did it," he instructed. "The answer's important."

"Because I'm an idiot," I retorted. Clearly that was the only reason that made any sense.

Once again, Damon shook his head and rolled his eyes before locking them on mine. "Give me a serious answer."

"Fine," I shouted, hating how much he _always_ pushed my boundaries and expected the truth. Just once, I wanted a non-confrontational evening with Damon. "Because you promised that you wouldn't hurt me. And I trust you."

The smirk reappeared at my answer before he crossed his arms over his chest and stated a smug, "Thanks."

"Yes, I trust you," I exasperated. "You should know that by now, considering everything I've told you," I shouted, not understanding the point in this whole charade. I felt used, my trust exploited for unknown reasons, and it had me spitting out, "Why do you even need to hear me say it?"

His hand's reached out to lock around the sides of my neck, offering a much needed connection, as he explained, "Because _you_ needed to hear you say it and only something ridiculous like this would _actually_ prove that you do. I already knew you trusted me, but you needed to admit it to yourself."

His eyes still bore straight into mine as he explained further, "And now I want you to remember the first few times we met, that wall you put up because Stefan broke your ability to trust, and I want you to accept the fact that despite what he did to you, you trust me - someone who came after the accident. And I want you to think about that the next time you meet someone new and have the same gut decision to lock them out."

Damon's methods certainly weren't ordinary, but somehow he'd done it again. Curtains of hair were shielding each side of my face, driving me to focus on only him and the truth he was forcing me to confront. And, per usual, there was nothing I could do but succumb to him and that very truth.

So I reigned in my previously constructed answer of, "You're an asshole," and replied with a simple, accepting, "Okay, but your methods suck."

At my response, Damon chuckled. All confidence had reappeared on his expression as he tilted his head and declared, "Yeah, but they work. And I needed you to feel that trust so you can hold onto it the next times I push you."

I failed to contain the incredulous laugh that escaped my lips as I questioned, "So there's more?"

This time, he smiled - really smiled. "Not tonight, but yeah."

That particular curve of his lips and the way it never failed to reach and ignite the blue of his eyes always managed to twist the muscles in my stomach. It was such a radiant image to take in, but as all my previous frustration diminished, I felt something else creep in and take its place and it wasn't acceptance. Instead, I suddenly felt the need for retribution.

Numerous times, Damon had cracked me open, forced me to confront my issues and deal with them head on. Apparently, we weren't even close to being finished. I wasn't upset over this anymore and had quickly learned to get over my anger during the situations. But it was finally time to level the playing field and force_ him_ out of his comfort zone. And in a way where I could still reap the benefits.

So I threw his own smirk onto my lips and countered, "Fine, but since you take such pleasure in pushing my limits, I think it's time we tackle one of _your _issues."

"Fine," he agreed, smugness painted on his expression. He didn't even falter or attempt to fight me off like I'd done with him as he questioned, "What did you have in mind?"

His easy submission had my mouth dangling slightly open and my brows knitting together, but after a second's hesitation, I managed to recompose myself. It was finally my moment to take control and I planned on taking full advantage of it.

I pulled back and lifted my index finger to play across the crease of his lips and stated, "You, my dear, have a problem with control."

I allowed it to trail south, dip below his chin and graze between his pectoral muscles as I whispered, "You crave it."

His eyes never deviated from mine, locking us in a heated connection as my hand landed above his belt. And as my fingertips played with those two, distinctly defining creases that lead beneath his shorts, Damon's eyes transitioned from sky blue to midnight black. That's when I slipped my hand south, wrapped my fingers around his already primed manhood, and purred, "And right now, I'm stripping you of it."

A guttural growl sounded from the back of his throat, shooting rays of heat to the central locations of my body, when his hands took hold of my slim waist. "Uh, uh, uh," I reprimanded, pulling my hand from beneath the fabric and using it to peel Damon's from around my waist. "No touching, Mr. Salvatore."

"Do you really think you can handle this?" he asked with a condescending smirk and wiggle of his brows.

My hand extended to push against his torso, successfully tossing him onto a chair when I challenged, "The question is, can you?"

Leaning forward, I placed my hand on his right shoulder and offered him an ideal visual of my cleavage. His tongue swept along his bottom lip at the sight before I directed, "You can't touch until I say you can. Got it?"

"Got it," he responded roughly, the cocky smirk still intact.

Dying to see it drip from his lips along with the sag of his jaw, I then took my time to peel my camisole over my head, making sure to make the reveal all the more prolonged. Inch by inch, the fabric lifted to bare the tight olive skin of my stomach and lacy half-cups of my bra.

Right on cue, the smirk dropped along with the article of clothing. His gazed traveled the surface of my body, ravishing every inch he wasn't allowed to touch or taste and I couldn't help the confident leer from slipping over my lips. I had him precisely where I wanted him and I couldn't wait to show him exactly what I was capable of when I took control.

My fingers worked meticulously on unfastening his belt and then slowly on sliding his zipper to reveal a section of skin above his awaiting package. The loud zip was the only sound in the otherwise silent room, well except for the breath being pulled between Damon's teeth. And when I finally tugged on his boxer briefs, his erection sprang from the confining fabric.

I marveled it's size for a second, acknowledging the fact that I might never be able to fight off the instant pool of heat it produced in the base of my tummy, before finally tugging his jeans from around his waist. They fell in a heap at the base of his feet and I took the moment to rake my fingernails along his defined calves and thighs. Slowly, I worked my way north towards the spot where his blood was centralizing, only to halt millimeters from where he craved my touch the most.

It was then I peered up at him through heavy lashes and shot him my best adorable doe eyes. I listened to the groan of his throat and lost myself in the lust swimming around his icy blues. It was certainly an image that would have any girl faltering, but not one who'd been craving this sense of control, the very control I'd suddenly found.

So I shot him a wicked smirk and lowered my lips to hover above the head. And then I blew. The muscles in his thighs constricted, but I resisted the urge to look up and witness the same tortured face I'd dawned the first night he'd gone down on me. He'd made me wait patiently for the warm contact I'd craved most from his tongue and I certainly had every intention of doing the same.

The fingers of my right hand trailed their way up and down his length, while the others of my left paid attention to his package. Guttural growls sounded from his throat when my lips parted and lowered to encompass the tip of his erection. But instead of contracting to slide against the surface, my bubblegum tongue swept out instead. Damon's hips shifted slightly as I teased him, only supplying subtle seconds of desired heat against his sensitive member. And when it was clear he was seconds away from driving the thing into my mouth himself, I lowered my head and began to suck.

The groan of relief that sounded from above shot another blast of heat to my center, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of pleasuring me. No, this was about the ways _I_ could make _his_ head spin. So I resumed work with my left hand to briefly dip a finger of my right into my mouth. I pulled it out gradually, understanding the visual it was supplying Damon while my digits were still wrapped around his dick, before slipping it under the elastic of my shorts and against my sensitive nub.

Feeling the relief I'd been craving of my own touch, I got back down to work on Damon. My lips slipped up and down his shaft, focusing primarily on the mushroom head at the top; before I inched down to devour all of him.

"Fuck, Elena," he groaned at the art I'd performed and gripped to white knuckle the sides of his chair. I repeated the action twice, moving my lips subtly down the line of his erection before locking them against the hilt. Each time resulted in another expletive on his part and I felt pride swell within my chest.

With my right hand working magic on myself and my left swirling the base of Damon's dick, it was clear to see he was close to release. He throbbed against my soft tongue as I maneuvered myself up and down, supplying just the perfect amount of teeth for necessary friction. And when I heard his slight intake of breath from above, I tightly squeezed my lips together and drug them one last time up and off his shaft.

"Enjoying yourself," I questioned seductively, when I peered up and noticed his hungry eyes.

"I'd be enjoying myself even more if you kept that up for another 20 seconds," he answer in a husky voice.

"Don't worry," I assured as I dropped my cotton shorts to the wooden floorboards below, "We're not through just yet." My legs parted as I slid my hand around his neck and grazed my lips against his. "Just relax and enjoy the ride," I whispered, repeating the very words he'd used on me.

As I spiraled myself onto him like a corkscrew in slow fashion, my tongue swept between his teeth. His hand swept out, pulled at the elastic band around my locks and buried itself in my cascade of chocolate. His fingers gripped onto my strands, tilting my chin so he could deepen the kiss. I allowed him a few seconds before halting my hips and directing his hand down my smooth surface of skin and between my thighs.

"This is the only place you're allowed to touch," I instructed, dragging his index finger against my sensitive bundle of nerves. The contact sent a shiver rocketing up my spine and Damon immediately noticed the way my thighs quivered against his.

As I once again resumed the motion of my hips, he swirled his index finger against me one last time before slipping it up my chest and along my lace bra. "Are you sure that's the only place you want me to touch you?" he whispered against the arc of my neck.

Ideally, I would have chosen to cease the roll of my hips once again at his defiance, but with the sensation currently surging through my body, the option wasn't one I was willing to take. So I simply captured his bottom lip between my teeth and bit down, hard, to show my disproval.

He growled at the act and tightly gripped onto my waist when I pulled back and smirked. "Now you don't get to touch me at all," I declared smugly before ripping his hand from my side and holding it behind the back of the chair.

"You're feisty when you're mad," he quipped in amusement, fighting against my hold to connect his lips with mine.

But I shot him another superior smirk in response, rocked my hips, and retorted, "And you're terrible at taking directions."

When it became clear Damon was finally going to follow my instructions, I let go of his hand and repositioned mine against his thigh. My body arched backwards, offering him a stunning view of my chest he wasn't allowed to touch. And when his shaft hit that special spot inside of me, a tiny moan escaped my lips.

"God, you're beautiful," he proclaimed, when my thighs tightened around his and my hips picked up their pace. His hand was still positioned around the back of the chair and the other on the side of it, but I needed more contact. I _craved_ it. So I shifted my position once again, locked my lips with his and resumed my motions.

With each successional grind, I felt myself take another step up my climatic ladder, but never could quite reach the top. As his tongue spiraled with my own, I rocked my hips back and forth, pumped them up and down, and pulled off every maneuver in my arsenal to reach my release. Still, nothing came. And when it became certain I wouldn't be accomplishing it on my own, I pulled my lips back and directed, "You're turn."

It was going against everything I'd been trying to accomplish, but I was a few seconds from release and absolutely desperate to reach it. And when his hand latched onto my hip and the other behind the nape of my neck, I felt a shudder rip through my muscles. It appeared my body would always react this way to Damon's control.

With Damon's aid, I could feel him reach further inside of me and within seconds my vision went black. I screamed his name as the orgasm ripped through me and my walls clamped down. Within seconds, he joined me.

I fell to pant against his chest, mine heaving up and down rapidly as I gasped for sufficient gulps of air. His hand ran along my sweat drenched spine and I prepared myself for the quip I assumed was preloaded in Damon's mouth. Because in the end it'd taken both of us to reach our destination – not just me.

But as the seconds ticked by and my breathing regulated, he remained surprisingly silent. And when I pulled back, fully prepared to shoot him a challenging expression, he simply inched his lips forward to offer me a languid kiss.

His lips molded against my own, the perfect way I'd come to appreciate, and somehow I knew we were ready for what came next. It had the potential for disaster, all signs certainly pointed in that direction, but if Damon could hold off rubbing that moment in my face for the sake of my feelings, I could at least show him the respect of this gesture. Plus, I had faith that we'd make it work.

So later when we walked out of the bar, I looked into those smoldering blues and requested, "Will you do something for me?"

"Sure," he answered without missing a beat.

"Okay, I want to introduce you to someone important to me." I replied with a soft smile. "I'd like you meet Bonnie."

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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	15. Chapter 15

**This chapter ended up nowhere near where I'd expected it to and I honestly debated cutting down some of the dialogue to make everything fit. But when I looked through it again, I just couldn't cut anything and there was still so much that I had left to include that I just decided to cut the chapter where I did. That being said, I hope it's not boring since it's more dialogue and build-up than anything. My fingers are crossed that it's not.**

_**Hope you guys like it.**_

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><p>"You know we're about to step into the Thunderdome, right?" Caroline warned as I pulled on the handle of Jerry's Pub. It wasn't exactly the nicest bar, but the only one in town for Damon and Bonnie's official meeting.<p>

To say I was nervous was the understatement of the century, but this interaction needed to be done. Bonnie was important to me and I'd seen so little of her this summer due to her conflicted feelings towards Damon, that I needed to get this out of the way. Maybe if she spent some time with him then that chip on her shoulder would disappear. Or at least that's what I was aiming for.

"No," I refuted with a slight shake of my head as we moved into the entryway of the pub. "I've already warned Damon about how Bonnie can be and Bonnie's promised to be on her best behavior."

The place was relatively packed for a Wednesday evening, but after a second, I spotted an empty table towards the back of the bar. We made our way to the table and as I pulled out a chair, Caroline argued, "But for Bonnie, that could simply mean the difference between kicking him 'accidently' in the shin under the table and spitting in his eye."

As my butt hit the old wood of the chair, I rolled my eyes and couldn't resist the laugh that sounded from my lips. The blonde had a point, one I couldn't dispute but despite the nerves lit up inside of me, I felt confident that we'd all come out of this evening as friends. We just had to get through the initial moments of uncomfortable silence and standoff behavior first. And there was no way we'd make it out alive unless Caroline's attitude changed.

I'd asked her to tag along for a very important reason; one I suddenly felt inclined to remind her about. So I rolled my eyes one last time before honing them in on the grey-blue of my friend's. "Caroline, I brought you here for support and you're not exactly making it any easier."

"Right, got it," she declared from across the table as she suddenly switched her features to the bubbly blonde I'd come to love. "From now on I'll just be your buffer. Endless optimist and conversation starter."

I smiled at her obedience, already feeling slightly more assured in tonight's task with her jovial smile plastered on her lips, and replied, "Thank you. I couldn't do this without you."

"Of course," she stated enthusiastically, the smile only broadening, before she reached across the table and took my hand in hers. A serious expression seeped over her face as she hesitantly admitted, "Actually, while it's just the two of us, there's something I've wanted to talk to you about."

"Hey," Damon interjected as his touch landed on my bare shoulders, causing Caroline's hand to slip back to her side of the table.

I shot her a quizzical look which she answered with a quick deflective shake of her head and titled mine back to offer Damon my lips. He responded with a brief kiss before I countered his greeting with a warm, "Hey, baby."

"You look stunning," he whispered against my ear, shooting glorious tingles down my legs. I'd chosen to wear the beige halter mini-dress for Bonnie's benefit, knowing she'd appreciate my choice to flaunt my assets, but it still felt great getting compliments like that from Damon.

He then turned his attention to the blonde bystander across the table and stated, "Hey Caroline."

The inviting smile I'd been hoping for was already firmly planted on her lips when she shot her brows into the air and teased, "So you've already been briefed on the mission at hand? And warned about the possibility of casualties?"

Damon's chuckle vibrated through his chest and against my back before he threw his leather jacket onto the back of the spare chair, took a seat, and challenged, "C'mon guys, she can't be that difficult to win over."

"Of course not, she'll love you," I replied, wishing I shared the confidence that I'd expressed in my voice. I'd already given Damon the run down on Bonnie's opinions regarding guys, but I hadn't exactly unloaded everything onto him. He knew she could be cold and distant, however, he didn't know what fueled that ice storm or how chilling it could become. And as the thought crossed my mind, I felt another shiver run down my spine – this one, not so pleasant.

"I think we'd have a better chance of rainbows actually leading us to pots of gold," Caroline muttered, throwing my very concerns right out into the air for Damon to hear. Immediately, my eyes shifted over to shoot her a warning death stare, which sent her straight back into supportive friend mode.

The smile slipped over her lips once again, her hand whipped through the air to make way for her bullshit, and she assured, "I'm kidding. You'll be fine."

Damon's eyes skeptically skipped from my side of the table to Caroline's, reading our silent reservations, before he lifted himself from his seat and suggested, "I'm thinking drinks might be a good option. What do you girls want?"

"Great option," I released along with a sigh of relief. If anything could make the situation easier to handle, it would certainly be alcohol. "Miller Lite for me."

"Me too," Caroline chimed in, her blonde curls bouncing in excitement.

"And Bonnie?" Damon questioned, eyes directed on mine as the reason behind our sudden need for beverages escaped through his lips.

I shot him one last reassuring smile to express how appreciative I was of his being here and answered, "Screwdriver. Thanks."

Once he'd left for the bar, Caroline turned her attention to me and pointed at her fake smile. "Do you realize how difficult this smile is going to be to pull off when Bonnie gets here?"

It was distorted now, her lips pulled back to bare all of her teeth and I couldn't resist laughing.

"You look beautiful, Care," I teased, loving her ability to make me laugh when I felt this anxiously charged. But we finally had a second to ourselves and I needed to take advantage of it. "Now, what did you need to tell me earlier?"

Her hand swatted through the air as she shrugged her shoulders and insisted with nonchalance, "It's nothing. It can wait for a less stressful evening."

"No," I disputed, "I could tell by your serious face that you need to get it off your chest."

There was a brief moment where I could see the conflict in her grey eyes before she blinked it away and assured, "Trust me, it can wait."

I wanted to push her for more information because it was written all over her face that she was just as stressed as I was over something, and I was pretty sure it didn't have to do with the situation at hand. But before I got the chance to press her to spill, Bonnie appeared on our right.

"Evening, ladies," she welcomed with her hands on the leopard-print clad sides of her hips. "Where's tall, dark and handsome?"

Caroline and I both looked up to shoot her warm smiles before I answered, "He's getting the first round."

Bonnie nodded in approval, lowered herself into the seat, and chided, "Well at least you have him trained well."

"Bonnie," I chastised with a roll of my eyes. She'd just gotten here and already the comments were being thrown around with ease. I threw my index finger in her direction, narrowed my lids, and directed, "Best behavior. You promised."

At my directness, she threw her hands innocently into the air and justified, "I was kidding." She then drew a cross over her heart and declared playfully, "Of course I'll be on my best behavior."

And although there was something in her tone that suggested otherwise, I muttered, "Good."

"How have you been?" Caroline interjected, apparently noticing the already building tension between me and the other half of our company.

"Good," Bonnie answered. "Great, actually. I've missed you guys."

And for a nanosecond, I forgot the reason we were all there. Instead it was just the three of us out for a normal night of drinks, gossiping about our lives, and enjoying each other's company. That was, until Damon reappeared at the table with our drinks.

"Here we go," he said, lowering three beer bottles he'd trapped between his fingers and the screwdriver to the table. Once the drinks had been freed from his fingers, he looked up to notice our new addition and slipped a smile over his lips. "You must be Bonnie. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure," she replied, but the tone of her voice suggested otherwise. Her eyes trailed their way from his dark-washed jeans and over his black t-shirt, but not in the way I'd come to expect when sharing Damon with the public eye. Her cinnamon irises didn't possess the hungry, carnal desire other women's typically did. Instead, there was only an irritable blaze, as if he was an annoying mosquito that desperately needed to be squashed.

Noticing that fire in her eyes and the way she'd already established the heavy passive aggressive undercurrent to the conversation, I felt my anxiety resume its previous setting of full blast' through my veins.

Damon lowered himself into his chair and without removing the lopsided grin that normally made my legs wobble, he stated, "Elena's told me a lot about you."

Bonnie took a sip of her drink, which I mimicked, and retorted, "Funny, she's told me a lot about you too. More than I'd probably like to know."

I took a larger gulp of my drink this time, wondering why the hell I'd thought this was a smart idea having the two of them meet, when Damon's eyes drifted to mine. It was brief, but the contact was revealing and in that moment, I could only see his pride. He'd chosen to completely disregard Bonnie's jab and instead focus on what she'd disclosed – the fact that I'd talked to her about our relationship; the fact that I'd talked to her about my emotions.

"So, Damon," Caroline interrupted, pulling my eyes back to the table, "How's the bar coming along?"

"That's right," Bonnie responded, "You're opening another bar in town." She swirled her straw around the glass of orange liquid, creating a vortex I felt myself being pulled into and dripped sarcasm, "How exciting."

But once again, Damon disregarded her attitude and answered with enthusiasm. "It is actually. I figured this place could use another option besides this one."

"Can't disagree with that," Bonnie offered before edging herself forward and adding, "But I just don't understand why you'd want to ground yourself here. There's not much appeal."

My attention shifted to Caroline, whose was locked back on me, wide eyed and nervous, as Damon replied, "When you've been everywhere else, you come to realize the importance of a place you can call home. A place becomes much more appealing when you can give it that type of tag."

Bonnie appeared taken aback for a second by his answer, before she carefully composed the set of her jaw and asked, "So you've traveled."

"A little bit," he answered with a shrug.

Feeling the need to throw myself into the conversation, I corrected, "That's an understatement."

But Bonnie ignored my intrusion and kept her feline eyes on Damon. "How adventurous of you."

Damon, however, seemed unphased by the heavy undercurrent I couldn't help but get swept away in, because he just shrugged and lifted his beer to take a swig.

"Where's the best place you've been so far?" Bonnie asked. To a bystander, these types of questions would have seemed normal, completely appropriate, but I knew Bonnie like the back of my hand. She always had a reason for the things she did and she was fishing for something to use against him; something that would shine the light on his awful ways.

And as he replied with a simple, "Here," I felt the tension grow thicker because I knew the skeletons lurking in Damon's closet. His past was certainly something Bonnie would have a field day with.

Her eyes narrowed and she appeared repulsed by his answer as she disputed, "I find that hard to believe."

But he shrugged his shoulders again and deflected the heat of her spotlights. "My argument from before still stands."

"But I'm sure you've had much more entertaining experiences than the ones you've picked up here," Bonnie suggested.

And that was it, I could already pre-hear one of Damon's rebel stories from his past being thrown out, when he surprised me by reaching under the table and gently squeezing my thigh. "Entertaining, maybe," he offered with another reassuring squeeze, "but not nearly as satisfying."

Bonnie's eyes bore into his, ochre and crimson flames dancing just beyond the surface, but Damon's refreshing blues were only focused on mine. And after a second, that cocky, infuriatingly adorable smirk of his twisted up on his lips.

"So, Damon," Caroline interrupted, apparently finding that moment the appropriate time to finally enter herself into the conversation and switch topics. "Have you thought of any names for the bar yet?"

His eyes were pulled from mine to focus his attention on Caroline as he answered, "I haven't really given it much thought yet."

"Why don't you name it after this shithole of a town that you seem to love," Bonnie muttered from my right.

I wanted to smack her, whole-heartedly too. But Damon surprised me once again when he stated, "That's actually not a bad idea."

We all remained silent a moment, as Damon's eyes drifted towards the ceiling, deep in thought. I took the moment to finish the remaining contents of my beer as Damon's eyes fell back down to the three of us and he suggested, "Mystic Falls Pub?"

"Nah, sounds too much like this place," Caroline dismissed easily.

"I need another drink," I proclaimed, standing from my chair and breathing the fresh air from above. I was angry with Bonnie about her behavior and just needed to take a beat before something wicked slipped through my lips.

"I'll come with you," Damon offered as he stood up with me. "Anyone else need another?"

"Me," the girls answered in unison.

He nodded and followed me to the bar. When we got there, Damon wrapped his arm around my back and expressed his concerns. "Elena, are you alright?"

No, I wasn't alright. My best friend was streaming a heavy current of bitch in Damon's general direction and I'd just hoped that the night would go differently. I knew it wouldn't be smooth sailing from the start, but I hadn't expected the continuous tidal wave of her judgment to affect me as much as it was. I mean, was it really so difficult to at least pretend to be nice to someone?

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied because I was sure things were difficult enough for Damon already without me throwing my crap on top of it. "You're doing great, by the way."

His hand ran soothing circles across the bare skin of my back, releasing tension, as he replied, "I'm trying. There are a lot of fireballs being launched in my direction, though."

"Yeah," I snorted, "Bonnie has a tendency to do that."

"But in all fairness you did warn me and I still signed up to come," he assured, pulling me closer and placing a feathery kiss against my forehead. His touch was as delicate as I felt considering the current situation.

When he pulled back, there was a smile on his lips, one that reached to ignite the blue of his eyes. There were no traces that this evening had scared him off or left him feeling exhausted like I'd started to feel and my body relaxed at the realization.

"You did," I agreed, pulling the corners of my lips to mimic his smile. "Are you regretting it now as much as I am?" I teased.

"Nope," he answered before his hands lifted to slide around my neck. The pads of his thumbs traced the line of my jaw as he added, "Because it's easy to see it's important to you that she likes me. And I told you before that I'd do anything for you, even if that means sitting through this evening in order to achieve just that."

"It might not happen," I admitted hesitantly.

But that confident smirk of his appeared at my skepticism. "I'll try my best," he assured before placing a soft kiss on my lips. "But I want something from you in return."

When he pulled back, my eyebrows raised towards the ceiling.

"No drink limit tonight," he instructed.

My eyes shot open. Was he seriously trying to push my limits during an already fucked up situation like this? My head slashed violently from side to side as I objected, "That's not a good idea."

"Elena," he stressed, unleashing the full brunt of that effective blue in my direction. "The only night you let yourself cut loose is the night you're too jam packed with your past to appreciate it. You need to remember what it's like to just enjoy yourself, plus it'll take the edge off so you can relax."

The thought of drowning my anxiety was certainly an appealing one, but I couldn't possibly head down that road tonight. "Damon, I see the point you're trying to make, but I…"

"And I'll stop drinking now so I can drive us home," he assured, cutting me off. "This way you can get hammered along with your best friends."

The sky of his eyes was bright; optimistic rays were shining their warmth all over me, but that just wasn't the type of girl I was. I was responsible, didn't let alcohol interfere with my thought process and didn't let it lead me down hazardous roads with lush induced truths. "I don't get hammered, you know that."

"But tonight you do," he refuted with a quick flick of his brows. The smirk was intact and I couldn't believe I'd felt relieved at its presence just moments ago, as he argued, "I can see the wheels spinning in your head, Elena. You're overthinking again and this is the perfect solution to cure that problem."

"Getting hammered?" I asked, incredulous.

His brows flicked towards the ceiling again as excitement slipped over his features. With a quick nod, his hands wrapped around my skin again, leaving me powerless against his hold. "I'll keep you safe and prevent you from doing anything stupid. Promise."

There it was again, that damn word. How was I supposed to argue against a guarantee like that or the eager expression on his face? I wasn't, I couldn't, because this guy had one damn hold over me and I'd drug him here to meet my overly-protective, highly-judgmental best friend. I guess, at least this way, I'd actually enjoy the night.

So I let out a huge breath of air and surrendered, like I always seemed to. "You're lucky I feel for you right now. You get the drinks and I'm gonna use the bathroom."

"You're lucky I'm here right now," he joked back as I made my way to the restroom.

Before I got there, I diverted my path back to our table and threw my hands onto the sticky wood, forcing both of my friend's eyes in my direction. Mine were only focused on Bonnie's as I licked my lips and took advantage of the spare minute we had separate from Damon.

"I'm about to get drunk, but I need to say something before I do. He's a good guy and he's here for me. Try to understand that and lighten up a little, okay?" I didn't even wait for her to nod. Feeling much better about getting that off my chest before the drinks started slipping down my throat, I then turned on my heels and made my way to the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Apparently pushing me to exceed my two drink limit gained Damon a tiny ounce of respect in Bonnie's eyes. Either that or my words really hit home like I'd hoped. Or it could have possibly had something to do with the alcohol being tossed down the back her throat.<p>

While she wasn't exactly welcoming him with open arms, she'd definitely lightened up on the death stares. And as the evening ticked by, she'd even dawned a smile on her lips – yes, an actual smile. I knew better than to think it had anything to do with the fact that she genuinely approved of him, but at that point, I'd take what I could get.

Her initial interrogation had shifted to a less awkward game of 'Never Have I Ever,' where you went around in a circle and each person took turns proclaiming something they've never done. Then, whoever else had done it was required to take a very revealing drink. Our individual 'Nevers' had ranged from bee stings down to very uncomfortable sexual experiences where I learned even more about Damon's past than I'd ever really wanted to – including the foursome he'd indulged in during his brief stay at San Diego.

I couldn't pin point if these tiny revelations of Damon's past and character had a positive or negative effect on Bonnie. One minute hers eyed would be narrowed accusingly as she muttered an insult under her breath and then then next her head would be nodding approvingly. And it also didn't help my differentiation of her opinion that I'd gone through eight beers already during the game. Secretly, I think Caroline and Bonnie were taking advantage of the fact that they'd finally got to see me plastered and knew all of my dirty laundered secrets to make it happen.

The room was effectively darker than it had been when we'd started off the night. But somehow, the normal fluorescents at our sides were a few amps brighter than I was used to and kept leaving orange spots in my vision. On top of that, my actions were a few seconds faster than my thoughts and my eyes seemed incapable of keeping up with my head. Plus, words were spilling from my mouth like an unstoppable canon.

It was safe to say that I was buzzed, certainly not hammered, but absolutely buzzed. And Damon's earlier assumption about it taking my anxious edge off had been correct. I hardly seemed to notice when vicious words occasionally slewed from Bonnie's mouth or Caroline rolled her eyes at something I said, or even the way Damon's conniving smirk kept reappearing as he noticed my eyes staring at those very sculpted lips of his. All I really knew was that, despite how the evening had started out, I was having a blast.

Still, even in my alcohol induced haze, I was coherent enough to feel the warning signs buzzing in my ear when I came back from the bathroom and found Caroline standing by herself at the bar, leaving Damon and Bonnie alone at our table.

"Are you insane?" I practically screeched as my heels planted themselves by her side.

"What?" she exasperated, wide-eyed and blatant confusion. "No!"

I scoffed and shook my head at her stupidity before lifting my finger and jabbing it in the direction of our table. "Leaving Damon and Bonnie alone at the table, even I'm not that stupid right now."

Her eyes followed the path of my finger to the table before they briefly worked their way under her lids. She then mimicked my head shake with one of her own and with a grin on her lips she refuted, "But you _are_ fun."

"I'm always fun," I reprimanded as my hand latched onto her shoulder so I could drag her back to where we were most needed. "Now come on, we need to get back before Damon says something cocky and Bonnie spits in his eye."

But she slipped her arm out of my hold and threw her hands on mine in return, effectively halting me in place. "Elena, relax. I left them by themselves for a reason. They need this moment, to clear the air."

"But I'd appreciate a complete boyfriend by the end of the night, not one separated into random body parts," I argued, shifting my eyes to take a nervous glance at our table. Damon and Bonnie were sitting on opposite sides, light conversation was in effect, and they seemed relatively relaxed for the moment. Problem was, that mood could shift entirely with one wrong word from Damon's mouth.

"We're talking about Damon here," Caroline reasoned, grasping my chin between her thumb and index finger and forcing my attention on her. "If anyone's capable of handling himself around Bonnie, it's him".

Responsively, I slid my arms across my chest, cocked my head to the side and refuted, "This coming from the girl who threatened that I'd officially set up the Thunderdome match of the season when we got here."

"Well, that was before this girl sat through three hours of thick tension," Caroline replied with a shrug. "Let them hash it out, and give Bonnie a moment to rip him a new one because if anyone can throw her words back into her mouth, it's Damon."

She certainly had a point and as my head twisted back in their direction, I could see Damon's smirk on his lips, that irresistible gleam in those breathtaking blues, and almost feel the sultry tone of his voice. There was no denying the fact that he had a supernatural ability to charm women and I'd wanted him to charm the socks off of Bonnie since we got here.

My anxiety level was still through the roof in fear of what could possibly happen if he slipped up in front of my best friend, but I had to have faith in his ability to win her over. And with the alcohol splashing through my veins, I suddenly felt 100% confident in his ability to do so.

"He is a spitfire when he needs to be," I commented with my eyes still transfixed on Damon.

"He tamed you didn't he?" Caroline responded.

When I turned back to face her, her eyes were still watching the same scene mine had previously been. I commanded her attention by jolting my index finger into her shoulder and warned, "Watch it, Caroline."

She giggled at my sudden change of tone and grabbed onto my wrist, guiding me around the outskirts of the bar. "Now come on, let's get closer so we can hear."

We walked around the section of tables resting in the center of the bar, careful to remain unseen by the company we planned on listening in on, and positioned ourselves against a partition. It was located directly behind the chair Bonnie was sitting in and, remaining completely concealed behind the wall that reached about 5 feet from the ground, we were in perfect location to ease drop.

Or at least I thought. When the seconds started to trickle by and we'd still not heard a word, I turned my head slightly to Caroline, who was leaning over behind me, and whispered, "Can you hear anything?"

She shook her head from side to side, disappointment etched over her features when Damon's voice suddenly rang loud and clear. "You're staring. Is it the smoldering good looks? Cause that happens a lot."

Success! Instinctively, my eyes rolled in their sockets at Damon's playboy attitude, but Caroline had a point. That attitude combined with the sincerity behind his baby blues had won me over. Still, I wasn't nearly as hard to please as Bonnie and responsively, I edged slightly closer.

"No, I'm trying to figure out what you think you're doing." Bonnie corrected, a heated threat to her accusation.

"Come again?" he questioned.

"With Elena," she replied. "She's not as strong as you think she is."

"Actually, I think she's a lot stronger than you give her credit for," he disputed. There was a momentary pause before he added, "And I don't think you understand just how much she respects you."

"No, that I know," Bonnie replied, certainty clear in her statement, before she released a loud sigh. "But I'm trying to protect her from guys like you."

"Guys like me?"

"Yeah, hard lines, impeccably good looks and leather jackets. Ones who find a gorgeous girl like her and shreds her when he's done. She's fragile and she deserves better."

"I repeat, she's stronger than you give her credit for and you have no idea what my intentions are," he reprimanded, frustrated and obviously irritated. There was a lapse in the conversation and for a second I wished I could see what was happening. Various scenarios shot through my mind, ranging from mutual scowling to Bonnie flipping him the bird. My nerves were alight in my tummy, sending anxious waves throughout my body and I'd just landed on the option of interfering on their conversation when Damon spoke up again.

This time, his voice was much softer as he asked, "What made you like this?"

Bonnie's snort was almost deafening against my ears when she retorted, "When your dad leaves you heartbroken at the ripe age of six for another woman he loves more, it tends to make you more aware, Damon. But I'm not Elena, you can't Dr. Phil me and I won't fall for the charm."

"I'm not asking you to," he explained. "I'm just asking for a little faith that I might be different. That my intentions might be in the right place."

"And why would I possibly give you that benefit?" she questioned coldly and even I could feel the intensity behind her words.

"Well, because," he started when a couple walked beside Caroline and me, deep in conversation. Their brows peaked questioningly at the sight of me and the blonde crouched behind the partition and Caroline immediately shooed them off with her hands.

The awkward encounter, which had my cheeks flushing a violet shade of crimson, took a few seconds, enough to distract our attentions from the important exchange occurring on the other side of the partition. And after a quick eye roll from Caroline, we both slashed our heads back to listen intently.

"I still don't trust you," Bonnie declared, her voice unmistakably lacking its previous annoyance and I couldn't help but assume we'd missed an important section of their exchange.

"I wouldn't expect you to," Damon countered, "considering what you've been through. But the only trust I need is hers."

There was another momentary pause before Bonnie spoke up again, "At the end of the day, I'll always look out for what's best for her. Remember that, because as soon as you stop being this charming version of yourself, nothing will be able to hold me back if you hurt her."

At that, Damon chuckled, truly and genuinely chuckled and I felt a smile slip across my lips, because the unthinkable had happened. My boyfriend and snarky best friend were having a conversation, without hair pulling and accidental shin jabs under the table. They were conversing, both laughing at that point and when Damon replied with, "Point received," Caroline pushed my back, alerting me that it was time to re-enter the conversation.

"What are you guys talking about," Caroline asked innocently as we emerged from behind the partition.

"Just laying down some lines," Bonnie answered, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as her eyes shifted to share a moment with Damon's.

I made my way to take a seat in the chair besides Damon and reached under to twine my fingers in his. To say I was elated was an extreme understatement and pride swelled within my chest over the way he'd defended my strength and honor against Bonnie. I wasn't angry with her for calling me weak; it was simply her way of telling him to be gentle, to take care of me while I was with him. And he'd somehow given her a reason to trust that he would. I wasn't sure what that reason was, but I was too thrilled to care. Perhaps the alcohol was playing a part in that elation as well.

Damon's thumb caressed the soft skin on the back of my hand when I rolled my eyes playfully towards Bonnie and muttered, "Of course you were."

"Trust me, we were very civilized," she goaded, throwing up two fingers to shoot me a 'Scouts Honor' sign. "Best behavior and all."

And then after a soft shake of her head, Bonnie lifted herself from the table and with a quick glance at her cell phone, she insisted, "But I've really got to get going. My rides here to pick me up and I have plans with someone who can end my evening much more enjoyably than the three of you can."

Damon simply rolled his eyes at her information, while Caroline and I released a few rounds of giggles. And after she'd successfully made her way to each of us and given us a soft hug, she threw her hand into the air and said, "Night," before making her way to the exit.

"Bonnie, wait up," I called after her as I lifted my butt from the wooden seat to follow.

I'd just reached her location, when she turned on her heels and threw her hands on my shoulders, a beautiful smile lighting her features. "Elena, before you get into anything, just know that I love you. It's the reason I'm here and I really did try to keep my judgment in check."

My head bobbed up and down, rubbing against the inside of my skull, and I smiled back at her. "He's important to you and I got that," she continued. "I mean, you've never stood up to me for a guy before and it put things into perspective. Just know that if he ends up hurting you, I'll hunt him down."

Her words sloshed through my mind; everything from her subtle way of alerting me that she approved of Damon to the promise that she'd always have my back and even to the point she'd made about my feelings regarding him. At another time, I might have dwelled on the meaning behind it all, but not when my actions were one step ahead of my brain.

So I simply pulled her back into my warm embrace and squeezed her body tightly, understanding that above all, this girl would do anything for me, and responded, "I would expect nothing less. Thanks for doing this."

When we pulled apart, she cocked her head to the side and said, "Of course."

"Have fun tonight doing whatever, or whoever you're doing," I dismissed.

She shot me one last mischievous grin and assured, "Oh, I will," before turning around and heading for the door. Just before she exited, she turned around and shouted, "By the way, it was nice seeing you let loose a little tonight," before she disappeared into the night.

When I arrived back at the table, Caroline was already on her feet with her purse in her hand. "It's time for me to call it quits too," she informed. "Tyler just texted and he's waiting for me back at the house."

"Alright, we'll give you a ride," Damon suggested, lifting himself from the table as well.

"No," she declined with a quick, deflective snap of her hand. "It's fine, I can take a cab."

"You sure?" I questioned skeptically.

"Absolutely," she assured before making her way over to wrap her arms around me in a comforting hug. I could feel her proud smile against my cheek as she did. And when she pulled back, her eyes drifted between Damon and myself as she asked, "I'll see you tomorrow morning?"

Damon nodded and I answered, "Absolutely," before she made her way out the door.

I finally released a relieving sigh when Damon stepped in front of me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I sunk into him, resting my head against his chest as the victory of our evening drifted effervescently through my mind and declared, "I'd say tonight was a win."

He laughed at my statement, the vibrations reverberating against my heavy skull as he did, before he placed a kiss against my hair. "And I'd say you're drunk."

"No, trust me," I defended; pulling back to gaze up at him and make sure my statement hit its mark. "I know Bonnie, and you definitely got the closest thing to her stamp of approval."

His please smirk appeared then and his brows shot in the air. "Is that so?" he questioned, eyes burrowing their way through mine and straight into my chest. "Then I think that calls for some celebrating."

A glorious, giddy smile spread across my lips, squinting my eyes and blurring my surrounds, as I approved, "Precisely where I'm at, Mr. Salvatore." I then spread my lids, offering him my most adorable doe eyed expression and suggested sweetly, "Celebrating in your bed?"

The blue of his irises immediately darkened, but he hid it well by narrowing his lids in my direction. And with his head cocked to the side, he offered, "I had another idea in mind."

"That being?" I asked as ideas of more beers played across my conscious. Honestly, I wasn't sure I could handle more alcohol and still wake up hangover free tomorrow morning.

His right hand slipped from around my waist and made its way to play with the underside of my chin, sending my body into a magnificent fervor. And with that piercing blue gazing back at me, he assessed, "The night's still young and it's not every day I get to spend the night with my drunk girlfriend."

"I'm not drunk," I interrupted with a pout.

He released an amused chuckle and corrected, "Buzzed girlfriend."

"That sounds about right," I agreed while releasing a giggle.

"Well then," he continued, his fingers still playing with the underside of my jaw, evoking wicked responses from deep within my belly. "I repeat, it's not every day that I get to spend the night with my buzzed girlfriend and I want to take advantage."

Damon then lowered his head to place a gentle kiss against the arch of my neck and I couldn't help but notice the effects alcohol was having on my libido. Already, my body was signing with lust induced pleasure and if I was being honest, I wanted nothing more than to drag him straight into the disgusting bathroom of Jerry's Pub.

But all too soon, his lips left my neckline and his hand slid down, following the curve of my hip, before capturing my hand. Then with a flip of his brows, he tugged my arm and directed, "C'mon, I want to take you somewhere."

And before I had an opportunity to object, he was pulling me towards the front doors. As we hastily made our way, I called out through enthusiastic giggles, "Where are we going?"

Keeping up our pace, he turned around, shot me a roguish smirk, and purred, "Baby, just relax and enjoy the ride."

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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	16. Chapter 16

**Once again, this chapter came out completely different than I'd intended it to. That seems to be happening pretty much with every chapter of this fic, which is rather un-nerving and keeps forcing me to switch up my plotlines. But it's also a main reason I've been sucking at replying to your reviews lately. I want to give you all insight about the next chapter, but I never know how it's going to end up and when I do give you spoilers, they usually end up being incorrect.**

**So I just want to say a general thank you for all of your feedback. I read each and every single review with a ridiculously giddy smile on my face. And I feel the love. You all are amazing!**

_**Hope you like the chapter. :)**_

* * *

><p>Damon led me through the front door of the Jerry's Pub and as we walked briskly down the sidewalk towards his cobalt Camaro, I wished the pavement would just hold still. It kept jolting up and down, like the track of a rollercoaster, and I was finding it difficult to stay upright on my heels.<p>

Thankfully, Damon seemed to have my balance covered. With an amused grin on his lips and an arm wrapped around my waist, he successfully directed me to the waiting vehicle. And with the bulk of my body still weighing on his right side, he pulled open the car door and edged me towards the seat.

I couldn't remember the last time I needed someone's help for an ordinary task such as walking, or lowering myself into the passenger's seat of a car, and as I slid onto the smooth, coal leather, I couldn't resist the giggle that left my throat. The alcohol splashing around my tummy and the absurdity of the situation was just too humorous to ignore.

"And here I thought your gentlemanly behavior was just to impress my friends," I teased as he slipped into the driver's side of the classic car.

He threw his hand over his heart and dramatized appearing offended. "I'm always a gentleman," he defended before the dramatics slipped away to make room for his arrogance. "And besides, I don't need to impress Caroline, she's my biggest ally in all of this."

I paused at his statement, wondering if there was an underlying meaning to it, before he twisted the key in the ignition and roared the car to life.

"It was a good decision to bring her along tonight," he mused, instantly bringing me back to the same place he was. Of course that's what he'd meant about Caroline being his ally. She was. And she'd made that fact known numerous times throughout the evening against Bonnie.

So I twisted my face to peer in his direction and agreed, "Yeah, it was."

"However, I'm glad it's just the two of us now," he declared softly, sparking heavenly tingles over my skin. His hand reached over to twirl a few strands of my hair between his fingers and as his eyes lifted to meet mine, his tongue swept along his bottom lip.

The muscles in my tummy twisted violently and I was reminded once again of the effects alcohol was having on my libido. Currently, I wanted nothing more than to fling myself over the middle console and straddle him between my legs, which wasn't unusual. He'd always had that effect on me. The unusual part was my seeming inability to resist what the sight of him did to my body.

Apparently Damon could tell as well because as my breathing picked up, his eyes darkened and the edges of his lips clipped upwards. He leaned forward and I braced myself for where we were headed, silently thanking everything and everyone for not delaying my gratification, when he twisted towards the back of the car.

My body sagged and I had to keep my disappointment in check when he re-emerged with a plain navy baseball cap.

"Here put this on," he ordered, thrusting the antique in my direction.

I took it from him, giving it the once-over in the process, and retorted, "I'm not sure it'll go well with my outfit."

Damon chuckled at my disappointment, obviously finding humor in my prolonged yearning, and argued, "But it'll keep the hair out of your face."

And with that one statement, my mind went into overdrive. All thoughts of engaging in car sex flew out the window, as my inner child came out to play. My eyes lit up like Christmas bulbs before I eagerly asked, "You mean?"

The smile that spread over his lips only mimicked the youthful glow streaming from my face as he nodded and replied, "Oh yeah, baby, we're going topless."

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, Damon and I tore down Interstate 81 with nothing but the rushing wind as our background music and lines of trees as our scenery. It was vastly different compared to the many times I'd sped down this very road in Caroline's old convertible VW bug; when Britney or Mariah had been blaring from the speakers while my two friends and I screamed along.<p>

Surprisingly, though, the atmosphere still remained the same. Even without the screeching music and summer sun, I still felt the jovial energy that came with an open sky. It never failed to bring out my youth and while I was aware the alcohol in my system was probably playing a large part in that as well, I chose to ignore that contributing factor.

"Is this your first time in a convertible?" Damon asked with his eyes still on the road.

"Of course not," I scolded, closing my eyes and pressing my lips into a smile as the wind sent strands of hair lashing against my face. It wasn't a comfortable feeling, but still an enjoyable one as I inched myself a tiny bit higher in my seat.

"You can throw your hands up in the air if you want," Damon suggested through a chuckle, breaking me from my serene moment.

I turned on him with narrowed eyes and chided, "How do you know I want to?"

He released another laugh, apparently as affected by the atmosphere supplied by the convertible as I was, and answered, "Because I can read you like a book, Elena."

Part of me wanted to counter his statement. I'd been so good with hiding my emotions for so long that it still felt un-nerving finally having someone view me as exposed. But we both knew there was truth in his statement that I couldn't negate, especially considering all of the moments we'd already shared this summer. Plus, I _did_ really want to throw my hands into the air.

So I rolled my eyes at his answer and shook my head. There was a giddy smile on my face as I submitted, "Okay. Promise not to laugh."

"I can't promise that," he teased, peering at me from the corner of his eye.

And I knew he meant it. As soon as my arms extended towards the sky, I was fully aware that he'd probably laugh at me, but I didn't care. This guy had held me in his kitchen when my world came crashing down, so there wasn't much left of me for him to judge. Besides, if I knew anything about Damon, it was that he'd never judge me, for anything I did or said.

So I slapped him lightly on the shoulder and muttered, "Screw you," before I lifted in my seat. I then threw my hands into the gushing wind above and screamed into the crisp air.

I could faintly hear him laughing below, like I'd already assumed he would, but his laughter only made the moment more surreal. My eyes squinted in the pounding wind, and we were both enclosed under the darkness that came with night and for, what felt like, the hundredth time that summer, it wasn't suffocating. It was something else entirely. Something I'd only started to feel again since I'd met him.

"I like you like this," Damon mused below me, causing my hands to slip back down to grasp the top of the windshield.

I was still slightly lifted from my seat, but using the windshield to steady myself, I twisted my head down and asked, "Like what?"

He simply said, "Free."

I closed my eyes and silently repeated the word, swirling the definition around my head. And I knew he was right. I wasn't completely there, but I was close to finally separating my past from my now, even in my hometown. Around Damon, I was able to have moments like this, where the trauma of my past didn't follow at every turn, threating to suck the very life out of me. Instead, I could appreciate the elation that came with a simple experience and revel in the sensation of not feeling guilty nor cautious about who I was sharing it with.

With Damon, I was finding, I didn't need to be.

So I took one last deep breath of the rushing wind and smiled at my revelation before lowering myself back into the passenger's seat. I then swiveled to face him and agreed softly, "Me too. It feels like forever since I've felt like this. Well, since…" But I cut off, knowing all too well what the next word out of my mouth would be and hating myself for even associating it with a tranquil moment like this.

Unfortunately, Damon threw it out for me. "Stefan."

"Yeah," I muttered along with a deep sigh.

Damon's hand drifted over and landed on my bare knee. His thumb traced soft, supportive circles against my skin before he suggested, "You know, we still haven't talked about him."

But I adamantly shook my head and disputed, "I'm not ready for that and I don't want to spoil the evening." There was no way in hell I wanted to bring Stefan up during a night like this nor did I want to focus any more thoughts on what he'd done to me. For tonight, I just wanted to concentrate on what I was feeling now, the freedom that came with zipping down a highway besides Damon towards an undisclosed location, and the excitement flooding through my veins.

I half expected Damon to push me on the issue, considering that he'd told me we'd eventually have to discuss my ex at some point, but he must have noticed the resistance in my eyes. Because he simply squeezed my knee and lifted his hand to the gear shift without another word on the subject. And after a minute, he shot me a devilish smirk and warned, "Okay, well then hold on tight."

"For what?" I squealed, already feeling the shift that came with our topic change. But instead of answering, Damon slammed his foot on the accelerator and I was thrown back against my seat, releasing rolls of glorious laughter as my back hit the soft leather.

* * *

><p>I couldn't stop smiling as Damon pulled the Camaro off onto a nearly hidden dirt road and crept it towards what appeared to be a large river. The dirt path was encompassed completely by trees on both sides, edging together to form a distinct canopy, but as we moved further down, they began to vanish, opening the space into a vast distance of field. Fireflies blinked against the onyx background, sporadic trees lined the edge of the water and when I turned to my left, the falls I'd visited so many times as a child glimmered in the moonlight. My smile only grew as my eyes drank the imagery in because the place was utterly sensational and the romance of it all wasn't lost on me.<p>

When Damon stopped the car and flipped off the headlights, the moon and countless stars hovering above offered a subtle luminous glow to the scenery. And when he threw open his door and declared, "We're here," I released the oxygen in my lungs I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

I was reminded of the alcohol present in my tummy as I stumbled out of the car; not like I needed a reminder. I was aware of the effects it was having on me. Not just on my libido, but also my rational thinking. All of my senses were softened and I was embracing things I'd once insisted to steer clear of. But as I steadied myself on the grass, I ignored the old me screaming that summer was eventually coming to an end and not to fall victim to the consequences that came with alcohol or the moments it manipulated. And instead embraced the innocently, beautiful reality of being in a place like this with Damon.

"This place is surreal," I admitted breathily. "I thought I knew every nook and cranny of this town, but apparently I've been missing out."

"Yeah, it's one of my favorite spots to get away," Damon admitted as he popped open his trunk and re-emerged with a blanket. He then took a few strides to my side, twined his fingers through mine, and led me closer to the water. "Come on."

As we walked, I took a deep breath of our surroundings. It smelled of wildflowers and spring; perfect for a night like this where anything seemed possible. And I smiled again at the thought. Apparently, the night was full of them.

We stopped just shy of the riverbank before Damon threw the blanket into the air. It fluttered and fell to the grass below, offering the perfect space for the two of us. I was vaguely aware that things were shifting, hell maybe they'd been shifting all summer, but I was too caught up in the haze of it all to stop myself from following his lead. I lowered myself onto the cotton, scooting sideways so that my knees touched the sides of his legs and my head fell against his right shoulder.

Damon's hand grazed across my back, causing my eyes to drift comfortably shut as I considered how perfect this evening had become. What had started as such a monumentally nerve-wracking evening had now become something otherworldly, special even.

"My dad used to bring me here when I was a kid," Damon admitted softly, pulling me from the serene moment I'd drifted into.

"Really?" I murmured with eyes still closed.

His fingertips continued to glide softly against my skin as he asked, "You remember the old Colt's stadium?"

Thoughts of my father and our trips to the Minor League baseball games flitted across my mind, forcing my lips to quirk into a tiny smile. "Yep," I admitted, finally opening my eyes and lifting my head to look at him. "My dad took me to a few games before they tore it down."

"Well, after Friday games they used to set off fireworks," he stated and lifted his left hand into the air to point across the river and into the distance. "You could see them right through those trees."

There was an innocence across his features, a purity that I hadn't seen much of this summer. It only ever seemed to arise when he spoke of characteristics he'd heard regarding his mother, not usually his father. And I couldn't help but consider how old this memory of his had to of been, certainly before things headed south in their relationship.

My assumptions were proven correct when Damon's eyes drifted onto mine and he declared, "It's actually one of the first memories I have of my dad."

"That's a nice memory," I mused with a smile. He reflected it back and nodded before drifting his eyes back to the black sky.

It was apparent he was lost in another memory from his childhood, one I could only assume he was fond of because the smile still rested on his lips. As I listened to the running water in the riverbed and studied his expression, it dawned on me that Damon didn't tell me the memory to make me feel comfortable or to get any information from me in return, he'd simply wanted me to share it with him.

And I suddenly had the urge to do so as well. Normally it took persuasion on his part to get me to divulge about my past, but tonight felt different. I'm sure it had something to do with the safety of our surroundings or the alcohol in my belly, but before I knew it, I heard the words, "The first memory I have of my mom was in a car," falling from my lips.

He turned to face me. Our faces rested only about a foot apart, close enough for me to notice the subtle flecks of blues the moonlight brought from his eyes and smell hints of his cologne mix with the summer breeze. Both of my senses seemed to kick into hyper drive, when Damon got impatient and quipped, "Sounds like a memorable experience, for sure."

"Don't make fun of my memory," I reprimanded with a playful jab of my shoulder against his.

"No, it sounds rapturing," he laughed. "Please continue."

I rolled my eyes at his attitude before focusing my attention back onto the memory. "I was in the back seat and it was just the two of us. She had the radio blaring and she was belting out to 'I Swear' by John Michael Montgomery."

Damon snorted beside me, forcing my eyes to slash back to his. The moment during our first day together at the bars, when Damon confessed his disdain for all things country, played in the back of my mind. I narrowed my eyes, shot him a warning glance, and deadpanned, "Yes, Damon, she was a country fan."

Damon threw his hands innocently into the air and replied, "No judgment."

I scoffed at his attitude, before honing back onto the memory I'd chosen to confess. "She was completely into the words that she was signing and I was too young to understand what they were about. I could hear them, I knew what she was saying, but I couldn't figure it all out. I couldn't put it all together. I mean, I was only about 8 or 9 at the time."

Rambling. That's what I was doing. I turned to face Damon, whose demeanor had changed from jokester strictly down to serious as he hung on my every word and I took it as my cue to continue on.

"And so I asked her what songs were about. Why these people were singing. And she told me that most people sang about love. Most songs were about that one emotion."

The moment played through my mind like a movie, absorbing me completely as Damon and our beautiful scenery faded around and I continued, "I shook my head and told her that was stupid and she was obviously lying to me. But then she looked back and told me one day I'd understand."

I stopped speaking and slashed my head back and forth through the air, smiling at the memory, and then continued to spill the rapid fire of thoughts in my mind, "It was such a simple moment, but one that I'll never be able to erase. At the time, I just didn't comprehend how love could be such an intricate thing to evoke so many different feelings to music. I was old enough to understand the way a song was supposed to make me feel and as I sat there in the back seat and tried to wrap my head around it, I got my first glimpse into how powerful it was. What love did to people, how it made them either soar or fall just because of the songs I'd heard."

The last words came out in a rush when I turned to face Damon. As I did, the memory drifted into the background and the present reached forward into focus. His eyes were still intense, studying and watching my every move, when I confessed softly, "It's funny looking back now because I really had no idea how complicated love could be. But unfortunately, she was right and I understand _far_ too well now."

Damon's eyes never left mine and as he calculated my words, I suddenly felt bombarded by my truths. I wasn't even sure what I was talking about anymore, or which love I was referring to. Was it the complications that came with the love I held for my parents and the boy who took a sledgehammer to my heart? Or for the things I was starting to feel for the boy currently penetrating through me with his mesmerizing blue gaze? I honestly wasn't sure because alcohol was coursing through my veins, hindering my rational thinking. Everything I was feeling could have been a direct result of that.

Thankfully, Damon took it upon himself to halt every gear cranking away inside of my head because he chose not to dwell on my latest enigma and instead asked, "And your first memory of your dad?"

I smiled at his generous out and let out a soft, relieved sigh because this memory was an easy one. Not an alcohol induced death trap like the last. And it offered the perfect distraction amidst my sea of uncertainty. "Making me blueberry pancakes."

He released a low chuckle, relaxing my previous anxiety even more, and mused, "Now I understand."

"He was the cook of our family, always in the kitchen and I gave him such a hard time growing up because I hated fruits and vegetables," I explained before giggling and wrinkling my nose in disgust. "I really was a brat. But when he threw those magical blue spheres into my pancakes, I had no idea that he'd finally found a way to get them down my throat."

As the image of my dad in a long white apron danced through my mind, rolls of laughter tore from deep inside my chest. It felt good thinking of my parents this way and when I finally managed to stop laughing, I found Damon gazing at me with a look of admiration.

I smiled sheepishly up at him as he proclaimed softly, "I like you like this."

"You already said that earlier," I deflected playfully.

"But I mean it," he defended. "I'm really glad that I came tonight."

"Why? Because you managed to get me over my preferred alcohol limit?" I goaded.

He shrugged and responded, "Well that, and because meeting Bonnie helped me understand_ you_ a little better."

I blinked at his answer and questioned skeptically, "Me?" Instantly, my mind screeched back to Damon and Bonnie's conversation, particularly the part that I'd missed. My interest in that precise moment of their exchange was peaked, but even in my beer haze I knew better than to go digging for information.

"Yeah," he said, "you two are more similar than I could have ever imagined."

"So that's why you were so nice to Bonnie tonight," I teased, tapping my shoulder against his.

"That's one of the reasons," he replied before releasing a deep sigh. It spoke of exhaustion and had confusion lines forming on my forehead, when he admitted, "We both know I've been down the dickhead road before and it didn't leave me in a great place. Let's just say, you found me at the right time."

I rolled his response around and found it difficult to believe that Damon had ever been an asinine playboy like he'd claimed himself to be. I couldn't imagine him any other way than how he was around me, but then again, I'd been a different person before the accident with my parents. So it was understandable how a single event could change someone.

My eyes shot up towards his, intrigued by his possible answer, and I questioned, "You know, you never told me what made you decide to switch your life around."

But at the simple comment, the set of his jaw went rigid and his expression went grave. "I'd rather not get into that tonight."

The relaxed Damon from seconds ago had vanished completely, leaving a stranger I hadn't witnessed all summer. His body was stock still, his demeanor completely closed off. I didn't feel comfortable seeing him like that, so I urged, "Damon, you've pushed me all summer to open up and here I am pouring memories from my past onto you and you're going to shut down on me?"

He sucked in a deep gulp of air and turned to face me, sliding his smirk over his lips as he did. "I'll make a deal with you," he instructed, causing me to relax slightly as _my_ Damon resurfaced. "When you talk to me about Stefan, I'll tell you my story."

It was certainly a deal I couldn't argue with because it wasn't fair of me to ask him to reveal something he obviously didn't want to share if I didn't have the guts to reveal mine. So I nodded and said, "Deal."

Damon appeared pleased with my answer and as he sat there with that smug smirk on his face, I knew I was through with honesty hour. Inviting warmth had been settling low in my belly all night and there was a river merely a few steps away just calling my name.

So without speaking a single word to Damon, I lifted myself from the cotton blanket and grabbed the bottom hem of my dress.

Damon's eyes went wide with something I couldn't place, perhaps a mixture of fear and excitement, as he hastily asked, "What are you doing?"

I peeled the fabric over my head and dropped it to the grass. And with a quick glance at the awaiting water and a flip of my brows, I answered, "I'm just starting this game of I'll show you mine if you show me yours a bit sooner."

Damon's eyes skipped to the water and back to mine before he shook his head and reasoned, "Elena, I'm not gonna argue with the stripping, but you're not swimming after the night you've had."

"Try and stop me," I retorted cheekily through heavy lashes before taking a few steps towards the water.

"You're drunk," he rationalized. I shot him a challenging expression, which made him correct, "Buzzed."

"Well then," I purred, sashaying my hips seductively so my bare skin glistened in the moonlight, offering him a show. "I guess you'll have to join me and make sure I don't drown then won't you."

"Elena," he snarled behind me, but my feet had already pushed off of the dirt, launching me into the air before I splashed into the water. The surprisingly cool liquid swirled around me and when I re-emerged from its depths, Damon was nowhere to be found.

With my hair matted to my face, I twisted throughout the water, fighting against the current to maintain my position, when I felt the planes of his chest against my back. I sighed as he nuzzled his nose into my hair, feeling the comfort of his figure against my backside and the elation of victory.

"And you say I'm the one who's bad at taking orders," he deadpanned against my dripping locks.

"No thinking, just acting, Damon," I said cheekily, before turning around to face him. The current pushed my naked body flush against his, holding me firmly in place as I insisted, "You wanted this."

At my words, his cerulean irises smoldered with desire and instantly I felt the effect. All of my blood drained south, concentrating on the precise location I couldn't wait to have him fill, when his hands skimmed their way around my hips and up my back.

As his fingertips grazed the length of my spine, his face inched towards my neckline to place soft butterfly kisses along my sensitive skin. In between kisses, he purred, "More than you know," lighting up every nerve ending in my body.

My hands instinctively slid around his to his explore the expanse of his back, pulling him even closer to me, as his warm tongue swept up my jawline towards my lips. He paused just before making contact with my lips, leaving mine eagerly parted with a breath behind them. And after what felt like an excruciating amount of time, they finally closed the distance and captured mine in a languid kiss.

It wasn't as rough as I'd come to expect, but despite the temperature of the water, my insides ignited at the act, reaching something deep within me as my legs swept up to lock around his waist. His erection pressed against my folds, tantalizing the surface, as I swirled my hips to produce much needed friction.

"You waiting for my approval?" he murmured against my lips, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down the spine trapped safely beneath his hand.

"Have I ever before?" I questioned seductively before slipping my tongue between my teeth to spiral with his. Damon's left hand drifted to tangle in my chocolate hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss, as his other fell to grasp onto my butt. When he gave it a subtle squeeze, shooting a straight shot of undiluted lust between my thighs, all of my previous restraint vanished.

My nipples pebbled against the toned muscles of his lean figure and I arched my body against his, finding the perfect angle to envelope him. And with the water currently sweeping me against him, I slowly fused myself to Damon. I peeled my lips from his and gasped at the connection, finding it even more heavenly than I'd remembered. Perhaps it had something to do with the alcohol and the continuous churning of my stomach muscles all night finally getting some relief.

Damon's hand fisted in my hair, pulling gently, as he released a groan against the hollow of my neck. His other hand tightened on my bum, slowly gliding me up and down his shaft. The pace was steady, exquisitely slow, much like our first time together. But somehow I knew the set pace this time had nothing to do with Damon bringing me to the edge only to torture me by slowing backing me down.

No, this time it was about prolonging the finale simply to savor the moment, expand it into a seemingly surreal expanse of time. And I couldn't agree with the choice more.

Desire was surging through me, curling my toes and quivering through my thighs, with each mastered thrust as I brought my lips crashing back against his. On some visceral level, I knew what was happening, why I'd been feeling a shift all night. I could feel it in the movement of his tongue against mine, in the passion behind his lips and under his fingertips, and most certainly in the sensation ripping through my body with each entry he made.

We were making love. But I couldn't stop it. Didn't even want to stop it. Not now, when ache & gratification were coiling so powerfully within me.

So I kept up with Damon's sensual pace, building each other gradually, as my tongue grazed against his and our hips moved in seamless unison. Every confession from this summer, every laugh, and every caress stacked up to lift me to a new level. Intense trembles rocketed through my body with each glide against my inner walls and as the alcohol in my system mixed with Damon, I got lost in the sensation of it all. I seemed to get swept away with the current as I fell into the sensation of him and the intimate act we'd found ourselves in.

And as I reached my release, I titled my head backwards and called out his name. He came right with me, as the blinding climax tore through my quivering limbs. I soared towards the sky, higher this time than any other. And when I tumbled back down, I was left panting in his hold, completely blindsided by what we'd just done and the ramifications that were sure to follow, but too placated to care. Because tonight was about being free, of my negative thoughts and circumstantial past, and at the moment that's precisely what I was.

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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	17. Chapter 17

**Hi everyone. Are you all still here? I hope so because we're less than 10 chapters away from the ending of this thing. I wish I could give you a better estimate than that, but with the changes plotlines and such, it's the best I can offer. Just know, there are more than 5 and less than 10 chapters left.**

**I really wish I could reach through my computer and give you all a hug for you wonderful and beautifully supportive comments for the last chapter. Some even made me tear up and I've re-read them a few times since the finale. They've helped me deal with some writer's funk I've been working through and I really appreciate your positivity. So, big thank you!**

_**Hope you like the chapter.**_

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><p>"Tell me again why it has to be <em>this<em> exact model?" Damon asked from beside me.

We were standing in the aisle of Best Buy as I took another look at Ric and Jenna's potential wedding gift.

"Because Jenna and Ric's fighting has only gotten worse and it all started when this stupid thing broke," I muttered before comparing the model number and make to the image I'd taken of the sound system back home.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Damon's body step closer to mine as he cooed, "Look at you trying to patch things up."

"That's not what I'm doing," I defended before honing my attention away from the awaiting purchase and onto him. He was already sporting his 'no bullshit' expression, so I decided to drop the front. "Alright, maybe it is, but things have just gotten so tense around the house. Did you know Ric even cornered me the other day so he could ask if I knew what was going on?"

Damon lifted his hand into the air and waved them around dramatically. "Heaven forbid."

"You're missing my point," I scolded. It was so standard of him to focus on the fact that discussing my aunt and future uncle-in-law's relationship made me uncomfortable instead of the real issue at hand. "Ric and I hardly talk and when we do it's typically just your standard greeting or mindless chit chat. We don't discuss things like this. So things _must_ be bad."

Damon's eyes studied the anxiety seeping through my expression a moment before he suggested, "Well, have you talked to Jenna about it?"

"No," I released with a sigh. I'd wanted to, but she'd been so touchy recently that I hadn't wanted to provoke her bad moods more. Plus, I'd been dealing with my own issues for the past few days.

Damon's brows started to peak, alerting me to the chastising that was sure to follow, but before he got the chance, I quickly redirected the focus onto him. "Has Ric said anything to you?"

My tactic had done the trick because he simply shrugged and answered, "Nothing more than the fact that she's been a little wound up lately. But we're guys, Elena; we don't sit around and discuss relationships."

My eyes narrowed at his explanation and I questioned, "Then what do you talk about?"

His shoulders played through the motions of another nonchalant shrug and he supplied, "Cars, sports, primarily football since the seasons about to start, and well…"

Noticing the hesitancy before his last topic, my eyes shot open. "You do not talk to Ric about our sex life!" I exasperated at an octave a little inappropriate considering the family franchise we were standing in. A blue-clad employee shot us a pointed look, but I was too strung up on how embarrassed I was over Ric and Damon's conversations. I'd never be able to look Ric again in the eye.

"Relax, I don't," Damon assured before releasing an amused chuckle. "That's eighteen shades more uncomfortable than anything I'd want to talk about with Ric."

Relief saturated my limbs, not only for the sake of Ric and my future relationship, but also because it proved Damon wasn't as much of an idiot as I'd momentarily thought he was. Still, I was now even more curious about what his last answer had been. Secretly, I still dreaded it had everything to do with me and maybe even the bi-polar nutcase I'd become lately.

"Then why did you pause?" I asked a little too urgently.

There was a moment of anxious silence before Damon finally spilled. "Because we talk about me," he supplied, drifting his eyes onto a random speaker nestled on the counter. He'd just started to fiddle around with the object when he added, "My past."

"The one I'm not allowed to hear anything more about until I tell you about a specific part of mine," I chided with arms crossed over my chest.

He set the speaker down and tilted his face to look at me. "Precisely," he replied chipperly with his smirk already re-attached. Apparently, normal Damon had already resurfaced. "Now is this the right system or what?"

Damon was already reaching for one of the boxes under the display, clearly ready to move on from our current topic, but my interest was piqued. "Why Ric?"

His frustrated sigh was distinct amongst the various conversations being held around us, when he rasied to my level and explained, "Because he was the first person I came across when I moved back here besides Tyler."

It was apparent he still had words left on his tongue to throw out, and after a few seconds, Damon finally admitted, "He helped me through a lot of shit."

The curiosity in me was burning, but I knew better than to press him for any more information. It was difficult, but I reigned in my interest and settled for a soft, honest, "I never knew."

"That's because you two just engage in your standard greeting or mindless chit chat," he mocked with raised brows, before assessing, "Maybe if you got to know the guy, you'd learn a little more."

My arms slipped over my chest defensively as I questioned, "Are you reprimanding me."

"Why?" he asked coarsely, his dangerous smirk firmly plastered on his lips. "Do you need to be reprimanded?"

I shook my head at his sudden tone drop and flirtatious behavior because feeling weak in the knees in a Best Buy was the last thing I needed since our night by the river. So I rolled my eyes and retorted, "No."

"Then I'm not," he replied, lifting his hand to play with the underside of my jaw. It felt heavenly and instantly sent a jolt of desire between my thighs. It wasn't a new sensation, far from it, but one that I'd been having a difficult time getting a handle on since our love-making a few nights before.

Every time he touched me, that desire sparked low in my belly, but something else mixed with it that I hadn't let myself feel since Stefan exited my life. It was a connection to Damon, that sense of longing, which had my head constantly shooting a thousand thoughts around my mind per minute. Because on one hand, I wanted to embrace that need for him, surrender to the concept that he was now a part of this new, well newly rekindled, side of me that'd been emerging since the summer began. But on the other hand, I'd just gotten my course schedule for school with the large red warning date for when classes started back up.

Unfortunately, our romantic evening and the tangled mess of limbs I'd awoken to the following morning had alerted me that I'd slipped farther down the emotional hole than I'd initially anticipated and now summer was nearly over. Nearly two weeks marked mine and Damon's parting and I'd been doing my absolute best to distance myself from him as much as possible. Sadly, I seemed to get reeled back in like a petty fish caught on his appealing line. I hadn't been able to keep myself from heading to his house every evening or asking him to tag along during this damn shopping trip.

And the thought that I was _this_ attached to Damon was… absolutely… fucking… terrifying.

That very terror, which was now spiking hot and hard through my limbs, forced me to maneuver out of his tender caress and closer to the awaiting surround system. And with a swift break of eye contact, I pointed to the box and declared, "This is the system we want."

He dipped down and picked one of the large boxes easily from the shelf. "It's got quite a price tag."

"I have the money," I assured and with a lift of my hand, I tried to remain impassive as I added, "Dead parent's life insurance and all."

But the concern floating around his blue eyes was a dead giveaway that he saw right through my front. He always did. Still, he was smart enough not to dwell on it as he stressed, "I'm not saying you don't, Elena. But why don't we split it?"

Because the last thing I needed was Damon infiltrating my life any further. Everything about my summer seemed to be attached to him, from the easy nights out down to the emotional breakthroughs. I needed separation, something distinctly mine and mine alone that I could take away from this summer, figuratively speaking of course since the system was staying behind with my aunt. As of right now, I only had utter devotion towards the blue-eyed guy that stepped in and took over my summer and that simply couldn't do.

"Because I don't need your money," I reasoned as easily as I could with the overactive thoughts whirling through my head. "I can get it on my own."

His head bobbed up and down in agreeance, as he said, "I know, but school isn't cheap, Elena." My head had already started to make dejected slashes through the air when he reasoned, "Look, if it makes you feel any better we can say you're doing this to help me. This saves me from having to figure out what the hell to get them."

I wanted to let him help me out because he had a point. Most of my parent's life insurance was being spent on my schooling. But I needed to put my foot down this time. Damon had helped me in so many ways this summer, but at what cost? What did it matter, really, if I was set free from the confinements of my past only to remain captured in Damon's wake? I mean, summer was coming to an end and if I had any hope in walking away from it with something besides the yearning image of those sparkling blues in my memory arsenal and the emotions they provoked from deep within, I needed to start now. I needed to find my independence again.

So I threw my hands haphazardly into the air, let my emotionally-charged self surface, and hissed, "Why can't I just get them my own gift?"

Frustration was rolling from me in scorching waves as Damon narrowed his eyes and demanded, "Are you gonna tell me what really has your panties in a bunch today because I'm pretty sure it doesn't have to do with the gift."

"Just leave it, Damon," I spat out, doing my best to keep my voice to barely above a whisper. Honestly, it was infuriating that he could read me so damn well. I didn't want to get into this here, not in a fucking _Best Buy_, and even worse, I didn't want to hash out why I was a bi-polar nutcase; needing him one second and flicking him off the next.

"And what if I don't?" he challenged, with his smug smirk intact. His eyes were sparking with amusement and it was downright charming.

"Then I'm gonna punch you square in the shoulder, and I'll try my best to make it hurt," I deadpanned with hands raised to each side of my hips, doing my best to ignore that panty-soaking charm of his.

But he only inched further into my space, invading all of the necessary distance I'd tried to place between us, and stated confidently, "You can try."

He flicked his eyebrows playfully towards the ceiling and I had to use every bit of restraint in me not to laugh at his antics. "Please stop trying to be adorable," I practically pleaded. I didn't want to be mad at him, but I certainly didn't want to pull him into me because he resembled the fluffy teddy bear that sat on my bed until the age of 18.

Damon sighed at my tone, releasing the set of his shoulders, as his smirk fell to the floor. "C'mon, Elena, what's this really about?" he stressed softly before he took my chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing my attention.

And before I could help myself, I asked softly, "Why did you take things so slow at the river?" It was what these recent insecurities had sprung from. I'd been perfectly fine in my sexual, summer romance haze, completely ignorant of our expiration date lurking not so far in the distance, but now it was all I saw. Unfortunately I couldn't go back and wipe it away like it never happened, like I was doing with the surround system. Instead, I was now left with the fears that I'd gotten too close, relied on Damon a bit too much, and had absolutely no chance of walking away without another scar to add to the list I already claimed.

His brows furrowed at my question. "What do you mean?"

With his contact still acting as my truth serum, I clarified, "When we had sex, you set the pace much slower than usual."

"Is that what's bothering you?" he asked, concern lacing the question.

"Well, I'm asking you the question aren't I?" I stressed.

He rolled his eyes at my urgency and explained, "Elena, I took it slow because that's what you wanted. I usually go off your body and the rhythm you're asking for."

"Really?" I asked, completely incredulous. All of this anxiety was a factor of my own doing?

"Yeah, so don't look too much into it," he assured with nonchalance.

His dismissal of what we'd done was like a smack across the face, precise and painful, as it brought me back to reality. It seemed I'd been over-analyzing the situation and that ache was agonizing as it ripped through my chest.

With one last mental note to never indulge in alcohol again because of its mortifying ramifications, I threw my shoulders back and declared, "Fine then, I won't."

"Good," he replied, completely ignorant of the inner turmoil wreaking havoc in my brain, "because we have a few more stores to hit up after this one."

Damon reached down and lifted the product box from the bottom shelf and threw it against his hip. He'd just started to turn and head towards the register when I hastily caught up to him and questioned, "Wait, where else are we going?"

"A few depot's down the road," he replied. "Since Caroline suggested I add more food and a dining area to the bar to set it apart from Jerry's, I wanted your help picking out the dishes. Well that and some of the décor."

"And why do you need _my_ help exactly?" I asked.

We continued making our way to the front of the store as he shrugged and explained, "Well, I need a feminine touch and since you're my girlfriend, you fit the bill. I figured with the two of our tastes combined, we'll get the neutral vibe I was going for."

Picking out dishware, silverware, and whatever other ware was required for opening up a new bar/restaurant sounded appealing, everything did when it involved Damon. But adding my personal touch to his business hardly seemed like a smart option right now. I was supposed to be separating us, not driving myself further into his life.

So I sighed and refused, "I can't, I promised Caroline I'd head over to her house this afternoon."

"Then I guess it's a good thing it's only 11am," he contested easily.

I rolled my eyes and exasperated, "Damon, I can't alright!" because why was everything so damn difficult with him? All I was asking for was a little space and some much needed girl time.

He stopped abruptly at my tone and turned to face me, frustration and misunderstanding clear in the set of his jaw, as he asked, "What is going on with you? Is this still about what happened at the river?"

"No," I defended in the same unreasonable tone. "I just want to spend some time with Caroline and I want to buy the damn stereo on my own without you pushing me about it. Is that so much to ask?"

His eyes, which had previously been wide and wild, suddenly narrowed to resemble his stiff demeanor. The warmth in them had vanished at the presence of my harsh words. It was easy to see he was enraged by my sudden outburst, but he reigned it in well as he sliced a faux smile across his lips and retorted, "Of course not. Take your system and buy it on your own. After this, I'll drop you off at Caroline's and get the silverware and plates myself."

Within a second, he'd thrusted the surround system against my chest and turned in his onyx boots, adding, "I'll just wait for you in the car," as he started to walk away.

Hearing that same detached tone I'd previously been launching his way crash back against me was nearly my undoing. I never wanted it from Damon. It wasn't him and the sick churning in my gut only reminded me that it was my fault. I'd asked for this; I'd gotten exactly what I wanted. He was offering me space, but as he stepped farther away, I felt that line connecting me to him tighten, urging me to follow after.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew keeping this connection up would hurt me more in the end, but summer was so close to ending. That deadline that I'd feared was right around the corner and I didn't want our last few days together to be like this.

"Damon," I called out, when I was only a few steps behind him. "Stop."

Damon twirled on me in the blink of an eye. "Stop what, Elena?" he exasperated with his hands lifted into the air. "I'm backing down. Doing what you asked."

His evident rage was hot against my skin and responsively, I flinched against its intensity. "I didn't want to make you mad."

"Well you certainly could have fooled me," he retorted, before dragging his hand a few times through his raven locks. "You've done nothing but spit your passive-aggressive frustrations in my face all day."

He was right, of course. This internal tug of war had me split down the middle and I'd been so back and forth lately that I was surprised it'd taken this long for him to lash out at me. One minute I'd be wrapped around his hips, locked against him in the most intimate way, and the next I'd be bolting out his front door, calling out that I had plans.

What I was working through wasn't healthy, for either of us. And telling him why I'd been giving him whiplash would have been the most logical answer to our problems, but I couldn't face that. Not right now. But I could give at least some version of the truth.

So, I walked forward until the product box landed against his chest, and peered up at his baby blues with an apologetic smile. "Look, I'm just overwhelmed with the fighting, nervous about the wedding, and anxious about school. I leave in just under two weeks and to top it off, I got my roommate slip and they've fucked up. I've got some girl named Meredith marked down as my roomie instead of Caroline and now I've gotta deal with fixing that on top of everything."

"I'm just stretched a little thin," I admitted. His frozen expression slowly thawed at the stress behind my words. It tugged at my heart strings as I pleaded, "So please don't be mad. We can split the gift and I'll go with you to pick out the china for the bar."

"It's alright, you don't have to," he said softly with acceptance lighting his features before he took the box from my hands. "I shouldn't have gotten so uptight. You're stressed and I knew something was wrong. I shouldn't have pushed you about it."

He'd just settled the box back onto his hip when I inched forward and placed a sympathy kiss against his lips. "No, it's my fault and you wouldn't be you if you didn't push."

At my words, his signature smirk slipped over his lips and I knew we were back to our safe haven. All damage I'd created had effectively been repaired.

He lifted his hand to skim his thumb against the side of my cheek as he replied, "That's true, but the next time I push too hard, don't hesitate, and feel free to use me as your punching bag."

With a quick flirtatious bat of my lashes, I said cheekily, "That's quite a tempting offer."

He snorted and slipped his free hand to twine his fingers through mine. "Everything I bring to the table is."

As we headed closer to the front of the store, I twisted my face to reveal my lifted brow and jabbed, "Cocky much?"

"Very much," he retorted with an infectious, playful grin. "But I only speak the truth."

"The whole truth and nothing but?" I teased with a jab of my hip against his.

He chuckled at our lightened atmosphere. It was probably the most natural sound I'd heard between us all day before he muttered sarcastically, "Very funny, but let's get in line. We've gotta get you to Caroline's."

I shrugged against his side and tilted my face to look at him. "Nah, I'll come with you to pick out the dishes and I want you to split the gift with me."

His eyes sparked at my words before he leaned down to place a quick kiss on my lips. When he pulled away, he was sporting that breathtaking smile of his, and reasoned, "That's alright, I'll figure something out about the gift. This one can be all you."

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><p>After my outburst that morning, I'd relaxed as Damon and I searched through aisle after aisle of plate, silverware, and décor choices. We'd bickered over everything, teased each other about our different tastes, and ended up with a classic rustic theme for his bar. Our standard white plates, sleek silverware, and random accents were perfect for the family friendly atmosphere we'd decided on for the day crowd. And the unique tumblers, beer mugs, and dark wood for the bar were textbook for the edgier night crowd.<p>

All in all, we'd made a great team. Our tastes had complimented each other's flawlessly and our easy bantering throughout the entire experience had reminded me why the two of us worked so well together. It was a bittersweet thought as Damon pulled the Camaro in front of Caroline's house. After the afternoon we'd shared, I wasn't ready for it to end just yet, and that anxiety about leaving in less than two weeks was present once again.

It knotted in my stomach as I stepped out of the car and told Damon I'd see him later. He answered with a wave and before I knew it he was off, leaving me alone with my shooting thoughts.

Before they could fester too much, I ran up my best friend's walkway and threw open her front door; knowing someone since they were practically in diapers offered that luxury that I lived here as well, even if it wasn't the case. When I reached the kitchen, Caroline had a diagonally cut half of a grilled cheese sandwich trapped between her teeth and a bewildered anticipation in her grey eyes.

If I didn't know any better, I'd assume I'd caught her in the act of something. Instead of focusing on that, I blurted out, "We've reached Defcon 1 and it's all your fault."

Slowly, Caroline chewed the piece of grilled cheese in her mouth and set the remainder of the sandwich on her plate. Once she was finished, she crossed her arms over her chest and peaked her brows. "What's my fault?"

"What's happened with me and Damon," I exasperated, throwing my hands defeatedly into the air, before I slumped myself into the chair beside her. I then rested my elbows onto the table and explained, "I was completely alright with playing it safe. I had rules, Caroline, well established rules for my dating life, but you told me to change them. I took your advice and now here I am, only days away from saying goodbye."

She took a sip of her drink and swallowed before flipping a blonde curl over her shoulder. "I'm just gonna be straight with you, because frankly you're less than coherent sentences are all over the place, but I think I get what you're trying to tell me."

I stared blankly at her, waiting for her to continue.

"You don't want to leave him," she finally professed with a giddy smile on those perfectly balmed lips of hers.

I sighed at her excitement, and tried to make her understand the severity of the situation. "We made love, Caroline. Nice and slow," I reasoned as my anxiety spiked through the roof. "Completely your style. You would have loved it."

But she disregarded the edge to my voice and brushed off my hysteria. "Elena, that's great!"

"No, it's not," I cried back at her, desperate to shake some much needed sense into my best friend. "Because now my minds cranking a mile a minute and I'm overwhelmed with what happens next."

"Well, what happens next?" she questioned with an absurd level of serenity.

I sighed and let my head fall into my hands. "I head back to school."

"So?"

"And he stays here," I clarified as my head lifted to shoot her a pointed expression. Caroline's was dumbfounded and clearly, she was having a difficult time understanding my concerns.

"We break up!" I stressed. "And I normally would have been alright with that if I hadn't let my damn barriers down. Now, it's gonna feel like someone's ripping the life out of me and leaving it behind."

A sad smile spread over her face, but beneath that, I could faintly see traces of satisfaction. In me? In whatever the hell I'd caught her doing when I barged into her house? I had no fucking idea. And as she suggested, "Well, have you thought about maybe doing the long-distance thing," my eyes landed on a crisp folder lying on the table beside her.

"Wait," I interjected, suddenly only interested in the finely stamped logo on the front of the navy folder. "What's this?"

Her eyes followed the path of mine before she muttered, "Shit. It's what I've been trying to tell you about."

"This says Clidestown University," I blurted out like an idiot. Of course she knew what the folder read.

Another sad smile crept over her lips when she shrugged her shoulders apologetically and explained, "They accepted me two weeks ago into the performing arts program." The oxygen had just started to rip from my lungs when she reached for my hand. "I've been trying to figure out the right time to tell you, but I didn't want to ruin our summer."

Disbelief was my initial reaction. Clearly my best friend and college roommate wasn't heading off to another school in two weeks. But the proof that this wasn't the case was staring me directly in the face. Plus, it only explained the mix-up with my new wannabe roomie Meredith. And that realization led to the remaining portion of oxygen to gush completely from my lungs.

"Caroline," was all I managed to get out because I couldn't wrap my mind around it. It truly felt like I'd been sucker punched in the chest. My best friend, my anchor, one of the only three people I had in my support system was leaving.

Caroline squeezed tightly on my hand, trying to lift my attention from the grain of the kitchen table and back onto her, but it was useless. "I know what you're gonna say, Elena," she tried to reason, "but they have the best arts program in the area and this is my future. If I have any chance of being successful, I need to do this."

My eyes lifted at her words and it was clear to see that, despite the heartache in both of our chest over this future separation, she was consumed with hidden excitement. I wanted to be excited with her, that's what friends were for, but it was entirely too difficult with the disappointment currently sloshing around my tummy.

Still, I pulled my lips into a tight smile and gave it my best shot. "I'm happy for you, I am. I just don't know what I'm going to do without you at Richmond."

"You'll still have Bonnie," she reassured softly.

A few droplets of moisture had just started to develop in the corner of Caroline's eyes, when I joked, "A tripod can't stand without its third leg."

We both giggled, but it was a bittersweet, painful feeling.

"I'm sure you'll manage," she muttered. "I'll only be a few hours away and we can still chat on the phone whenever you want."

_But it won't be the same_ instinctively sounded in the back of my mind. It was the truth, after all. No matter how long or frequent our phone conversations were, they'd never compare to being by each other's side. But as much as that truth hurt, I didn't have the heart to admit it out loud. We obviously both understood the unspoken truth, and the last thing Caroline needed was for me throwing that back into her face.

This was her future, everything she'd dreamed about since kindergarten, and that stood a notch above everything when it came to an importance chart. We just had to hold faith that, no matter the distance, we'd still be there for each other, supporting and scolding when it was necessary.

That support was what I decided to offer at the moment. Caroline clearly needed it because tears were free falling down her flushed cheeks. So I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into me, letting a few tears slide down my own cheeks in the process. "I _am_ happy for you, Care. You know that right?"

She clung to my hold, apparently desperate for the reassurance that our friendship would make it through this, and answered, "Yeah, I do."

We sat like that for a few moments longer, each comforting the other over the future that promised to physically rip us from each other's side. It was consoling moments like this that I would miss the most.

And when we finally pulled apart, we each wiped the evidence of our breakdowns from beneath our eyes. I'd just finished swiping my left eye when Caroline pushed our conversation again; this time, with some fresh optimism. "But that's what I was trying to say about Damon, it's obvious you want to stay with him, and if you do, we can see each other every weekend when we visit. I've talked to Tyler about it and he's willing to try the long distance. And I've already done the math. You're less than 2 hours north from Mystic Falls and I'm only an hour south. It's the perfect meeting place."

"That's great about you and Ty, Care," I commended because I _was_ happy for her and Tyler. If anyone deserved a devoted boyfriend, it was my hopelessly romantic best friend. But now I couldn't possibly speak about Damon's and my future. It was too much to handle with mine and Caroline's so fresh and raw. So I shot her a soft smile and asked, "But can we not talk about Damon right now? I'd rather this moment just be about us."

Her eyes softened a bit to show her sympathy as she reached forward to give my hand another subtle squeeze. "Sure, if that's what you want."

"It is," I agreed with a slight nod, before taking a swift breath of air and attempting to join in on her optimism. "Now tell me all about this new school of yours. I'm sure you've researched the hell out of it already."

* * *

><p>When I walked through Damon's front door that evening, I felt emotionally drained from my interactions with Caroline. She'd been a frantic mess of excitement and hysterics the entire time, often taking me on the emotional rollercoaster she was experiencing. And now, my head was even heavier from the excessive thoughts swirling inside it.<p>

I wanted nothing more than to relax and throw my head onto Damon's chest. Deep down, I knew it wasn't a healthy choice. He wouldn't be here to offer the solace I needed soon enough, but it didn't matter. He was here now and I needed the strength his arms supplied when they wrapped around my fragile frame.

But as I padded into the kitchen, Damon's jacket was already on his shoulders, indication that my relaxing evening was not in the cards. His artic eyes glimmered eagerly when he stepped forward and grabbed my hand, "Hey, I've got someplace I need to take you."

As he turned me around and we started back out the door, I sighed softly, making sure he couldn't hear the utter exhaustion in it, and hid my frown. Any other night I would have been thrilled for one of Damon's well-planned escapades, but not tonight. Not when my thoughts were weighing me down like a ten ton truck.

"One of these days, I'm not gonna like where we end up," I muttered playfully, doing my best to disguise my begrudging attitude under sarcasm.

And for just a second, I could have sworn I witnessed apprehension spread over his features and heard the words, "Probably sooner than later," mentioned under her breath. But before I could confirm it, he'd already slipped a smirk over his lips and whispered the words, "That's impossible," against my cheek.

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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	18. Chapter 18

**I realized that I made some of you pretty sad when I said this story was close to being over (I totally get it… im gonna bawl my eyes out when I have to let this thing go), but rest assured that there's still closer to the 10 chapter amount still left. A lot still needs to happen for all of these characters to end up where I want them to. So you're stuck with me for a while longer. **

**Thanks to my friend, Ash (CosmicButton), for reading over this chapter for me and making sure everything flows smoothly. If you aren't reading her fics yet, you should. They're fabulous!**

_**Hope you like the chapter.**_

* * *

><p>The previous events of the day flitted through my mind as Damon and I made our way to yet another undisclosed location. They drifted around; leaving me once again feeling bombarded with uncertainty over where I was now, where I'd ultimately be in two weeks, and who'd be by my side. Everything was a mess, everything was just too damn heavy, but as we sped closer to wherever the hell we were headed, I felt that substantial haze start to clear. I wasn't sure if it had something to do with the crisp night air rushing through Damon's open windows or the fact that he was sitting next to me, but I started to feel lighter – more at ease.<p>

However, I couldn't help but notice that with each progressive breath I took towards reaching that state of relaxation, Damon seemed to be closing in on the opposite. Like he'd done at the house, he was hiding his nerves well, but I'd gotten to know him enough over the summer to notice that mask didn't shield the trepidation in his eyes. Even in the shadows supplied from the convertible top, they were unmistakably duller than normal. He kept trying to disguise his unease with playful smirks in my direction, but the way his grip on my hand tightened whenever it wasn't positioned on the gear shift counteracted his calm façade.

Something was clearly up, and it wasn't until we'd turned onto a very distinct road that I understood the reason behind his apprehension. I hadn't been here in two years, but I'd never forget the foreboding image of those particular Weeping Willows. They were perfect representation of the tears often spilled here. And although we were still about a mile away from the cemetery, I felt its effect instantly, like a freight train smashing right against the most sensitive portion of my chest.

The shiver ran down my spine and goose bumps spread across my top layer of sensitive skin, but not for the reason I'd gotten used to over the summer. Downright terror slipped through me, causing my tongue to go weak in my now dry mouth, and the most I could say was a soft apprehensive, "Damon."

He turned to look at me, a sad smile spread over his lips as he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. He didn't say a damn thing and it was then that I realized he wasn't going to stop the car. Not unless I found my voice and spoke some sort of opposition that made it very crystal I didn't want to be here.

So I forced oxygen through my windpipe and pushed my fears aside to formulate words. "Turn the car around."

He gave my hand another reassuring squeeze, but kept his eyes on the wooden trail this time as he responded, "I can't do that, Elena."

I ripped my hand from his and screamed with a little more urgency, "Turn the fucking car around, Damon!"

At my heated tone, he seemed to gain a little strength. It was always this way with us – whenever one found their steam, the other mimicked, like we were two pieces cut from the same cloth. We simply fueled each other's fire in every sense of the phrase. So naturally when my voice raised and my fire came to the surface, his rose to match mine and he simply refuted, "Not a chance."

I scoffed at his attitude, hating our stupid connection and pleaded, "I don't want this." And with a spastic, deflective shake of my head, I added, "I'm not ready for it."

"Yes," he simply replied, "you are."

"No, I'm not!" I shouted back at him, desperate for him to understand what the hell was going through my mind and inside my body. The acid in my stomach was wreaking havoc on its lining and my pulse was pounding heavily in my ears. By no means was I ready to be in the cemetery, let alone the very particular gravestone I was sure he planned on taking me.

"Why do we have to do this today?" I cried out as he pulled the car into park. Too many events had already taken place for me today, my thoughts were already far too frantic and overwhelming to tackle such a difficult task.

When he unbuckled his seatbelt and twisted to take my shaking face between his palms, he reasoned, "Because I hadn't realized how close to the end of summer we'd gotten until you reminded me of it this morning. I got carried away, but you're leaving in less than two weeks and once you're gone, there is no way I'll ever be able to get you here."

I scrunched my face and shot him an incredulous expression. "And why is that such a bad thing?"

"Because this is part of your healing process," he stressed, eyes blazing with fierce determination. "You need to see your parents, Elena."

That was the last thing I needed. What I truly needed was to get the hell away from this dark cemetery and somewhere I could breathe again without the threat of bile spilling into the back of my throat. How could he not understand that?

So I ripped my face between the warm confines of his hands and spat, "I talk to them enough on my own and there is no way in hell you're getting me out of this vehicle."

"Please don't make this difficult," he pleaded with concern trapped behind the spheres of his eyes.

"There's no way in hades I'm making it easy!" I shot back with defiant arms crossed over my chest.

He closed his eyes and released a heavy sigh into the tiny confines of his vehicle. So many emotions filtered through his expression and I begged that I'd won. After a few minutes of refreshing night air blasting through my window, maybe I'd feel better - get my pulse regulated, my stomach under control and forget this incident ever happened.

But when Damon reopened his eyes, I knew that wasn't going be the case at all. His jaw was locked and determination was prominent when he muttered, "Fine," and threw open his door.

"Don't you fucking dare!" I screamed as he opened my door and reached for me. His defined arms slipped around my waist, easily deflecting my jabs against his sternum, as I continued to release a slew of obscenities in his direction.

After a measly attempt of resistance, Damon swung me over his shoulder and kicked his door closed. "Elena, you're like a guppy. You make it too easy."

I couldn't fathom how easy it was for him to joke in our location or under the circumstances that had brought us here. They were all I could focus on as his cobalt Camaro drifted further and further into the distance.

With relentless jabs against his back and my legs flailing in opposition, I cried out, "Put me down!"

"Absolutely not," he replied easily.

"You're an asshole," I screamed as my fist once again slammed against his back side. The car was barely a blip in my vision now and I could sense how close we were to our desired location. Fear was coursing through my veins, supplying me with even more rage as I twisted and writhed in his hold.

Damon's grip only tightened in response, trapping me more firmly against his shoulder, before he retorted, "But one that's going to help you."

Liquid was burning the backs of my eyes, threatening to spill from the rims, but I held it back and focused on my anger instead of the torment of how close we were to the last place I ever wanted to be. "You're not doing this for me. I don't want this!"

"Nobody wants to face their fears, Elena," he reasoned softly. "I certainly didn't, but you have to."

The very familiar scenery that had haunted my memories for years was all around me and when Damon stopped moving, I knew we'd reached my parent's gravesite. His hands slipped towards my waist and as he lowered me to the ground before him, I unleashed every bit of anger I had gushing through me into his toned chest.

My fists pounded against his pecs. I refused to turn around and face what I knew was only feet behind me because this was easier, this was effective. Maybe if I exhausted myself enough this way, my body wouldn't have the energy to release the onslaught of tears still encompassing my eyes.

Damon took every punch, jab, and slap without budging. His hands were located loosely on my shoulders and his eyes were strained as he endured my beating, until finally my arms collapsed and I fell into his chest.

My breathing was coming out in jagged gasps when he asked, "Are you done?"

His voice was softer now, cracking my resistance, and the physical activity had the reverse effect I'd been aiming for. Instead of exhausting myself in an attempt to keep the tears from spilling, I didn't have the strength to fight them off anymore. They tumbled down my cheeks, saturating the gentle cotton of his grey V-neck t-shirt as I used it to smother my words. "I trusted you."

His body tensed underneath of me at the accusation. I knew it hadn't been fair, but bringing me here hadn't been either. Now, I not only had the weight of the day crushing my chest, but also the emotions this place evoked and the betrayal from Damon's carrying me here. It was a hefty combination, one that had me clenching his shirt between my fingers in an attempt to stay afloat.

When his hands slipped from my shoulders up to my face, effectively pulling me away from his chest, there was sorrow dancing in his blue eyes. "You still can, Elena," he assured softly. The tone had a near crippling effect on my knees, but I kept them locked when he declared, "I'm not doing this to hurt you."

And I knew he wasn't. This was Damon we were talking about, the same guy who'd gone through death and ensured he'd help me in breaking the chains keeping me connected to the ones holding me down. He wasn't here to make me break down, he was here to help me move on, but I couldn't. Not in the fragile state I was currently.

So I tried my best to look him directly in the eye and stressed, "Damon, you don't understand," before I broke off. I swallowed the thick lump in the back of my throat before finishing, "I can't be here."

The pad of his thumb swept over my cheek as his head slowly swept up and down in understanding. "I know it's difficult."

His hands had just drifted back to my shoulders, forcing my body to make the 180 degree turn that would bring me face to face with the resting place of my parents, and the surge of panic blasted me. "No!" I objected, maneuvering myself out of his hold. His eyes were wide, as I explained, "I can't face them. They're here because of me."

There was desperation in my voice as my eyes begged for him to understand why this was so much more difficult on me than just another child whose parent had been taken away from them too soon. It wasn't just about facing my sorrow; it was about confronting that guilt that I'd been holding since that fateful day. Seeing their conjoined gravestone, acknowledging that I was standing right above their bodies would be too difficult. I couldn't handle that.

But he stepped forward and captured my forearm between his fingers as he stressed, "That's not true at all." His head had started making charged slashes through the air when he argued, "This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault."

"Are you gonna throw all of the blame on Stefan?" I snapped while ripping my arm from his hold. "Because I let him leave. Damon, I knew he'd drunk too much."

He stepped forward again, refusing to give me the much needed space required to run. "Why do we have to place blame on anyone?" he urged with arms raised and eyes wild.

"Because it's easier," I instinctively cried out, internally pleading with him to just back the fuck down. I was on my emotional cliff now and could see the edge creeping closer, only a few more pushes from Damon and I'd go tumbling down.

But he didn't halt his methods and instead pushed further. "Easier than what?"

I wanted to slap him again, because clearly he knew what I was refusing to admit out loud. This was just another one of his tactics, and I had no intention of falling into it and my emotional canyon. So I remained silent and narrowed my eyes into slits.

"Elena," he finally sighed, clearly as frustrated as me, which was good. If he was going to exhaust me, I wanted the same for him. It was only fair. "You're using your hate as an outlet, for both yourself and Stefan, and you're never going to be able to let this go if you don't forgive yourself."

What he was proposing sounded so simple when it came out as words, but in reality it wasn't the case at all. His preaching was correct, but I didn't know any other way to deal with the onslaught that came if I let that anger fade and make room for everything else. I'd dealt with enough grief over this incident without opening the flood gates entirely.

"I can't, Damon," I whispered back, understanding all too well how vulnerable I was in this moment, but not really giving a damn if Damon saw it. I was weak, so fucking weak, when it came to confronting my parents and if anyone deserved to understand the truth, it was him. In the back of my mind, though, I already knew he understood this truth, he'd just been waiting for the perfect time to make me face it.

This time, when he reached for me, I didn't step back. I let his arms slide around my sides and offer the support he'd been trying so hard to get me to accept. "Yes, you can," he assured with his forehead rested against mine. "Your parents wouldn't want you to blame anyone, especially yourself."

"But I do," I whispered with eyes locked.

"You're strong enough for this and deep down you know it. You're already here, Elena, so you might as well turn around," he declared. His hands traced circles against the thin fabric covering my skin, offering a connection that supplied the very strength he'd insisted I had. Damon had such an abundant amount of faith in me that I couldn't let him down, or prove him otherwise.

And when I sighed and nodded my head softly, alerting him that I was ready to take this step, he easily started to rotate our bodies, never breaking our connection, the one I so desperately needed.

The granite headstone featuring the names Miranda and Grayson Gilbert came into view and it hit me like the gale force winds in a category 5 hurricane, ripping the oxygen from my lungs and crashing me to the earth below. Luckily, Damon's strength was enough to keep my knees from hammering against the ground, but he gently let me sink as the violent sobs ripped through my abdomen. Tears streamed full force down my flush cheeks, my head fell forward and I embraced the full brunt of this moment. The guilt and the hatred parted, making way for all of the sadness I'd held since my parents had been so brutally ripped from my life.

I missed them, and that longing was crashing against the interior of my stomach as the tears free-fell from my chin and onto the grass below. My parents were just below me, I could feel them - so close and yet so unjustly beyond my reach - but Damon's hands were on me, offering someone to grip onto as my emotions ripped me under. And for the first time, I didn't give a shit that someone, let alone Damon, was there to witness me come undone. Instead, I was thankful he was there, forcing me to acknowledge my own strength and supply me with whatever other amount I needed. And I took it, every bit he had to offer, silently thanking him for being there with me.

We sat like that for a while, I couldn't tell you how long exactly - minutes, hours maybe? But eventually, I had enough control over my muscles to lift my head to stare at the gravestone before me. It was exactly as I remembered. Steel granite and hauntingly beautiful like it'd been in every memory I'd replayed since their funeral.

Tears were still spilling from my tear ducts, when I found the courage to admit out loud, "I still love them so much, but what do I do with all of that love now?"

My head shifted to fall against his shoulder, as his hand ran gentle spheres into my back. "You keep it," he replied, sounding much wiser than I'd ever witnessed before, which made sense since he'd already been through this grieving stage. "You don't want to lose that, Elena."

Compared to him, I was a rookie at this. Still a child learning how to cope with their loss and when words escaped my lips, that's exactly how I sounded. "But it hurts to keep it."

"I know," he admonished along with a soft sigh. He then shifted so that I could feel the connection that came with our interlocked eyes. "But that love is there because of the memories you have of them. Instead of storing it deep down, embrace it. Let it help you live the life they'd want you to."

I contemplated that life he was referring to, knowing full well I was only living a fraction of it correctly. My parents had been generous people, so full of love that often times it permeated the entire room, affecting everyone in its wake. They were kind-hearted and trusting, surrounded themselves with those that loved them for who they were, and didn't hide it from anyone.

As I thought about my relationships, I knew I had some of this, but not all of it. They would have been proud regardless, but I knew Damon was right. They wouldn't want me to shut off the way I had, but I was working on it. And only time would tell if I could completely climb over that last wall and into the life they'd want me to live.

Still, I was getting there, and it was the portion within me that understood this very truth that had me admitting, "I know it wasn't my fault, Damon. I don't know if I can forgive Stefan, but I can forgive myself."

Damon lowered his head to place a feathery kiss against the crown of my hair. His smile was present against my skin, before he pulled slightly back and said, "That's a good start, but maybe you should tell them instead of me."

Noticing my slight build of apprehension, he lifted his hand to cup my cheek in his palm. His delicate smile still tugged on the corners of his lips as he stated, "They're still here, Elena. They're right below you."

My eyes responsively fell to the ground where my parents rested, or at least their bodies did. I understood what Damon wanted, even felt a bit resistant against actually communicating with them since my eyes had started to clear up, but I couldn't stop now. I'd come so far in just one night that I couldn't freeze up. In order to continue my progress of releasing my past's hold on me, I had to push through the pain.

So I nodded and released my death grip on Damon and let my hands drop onto the patch of land directly above my parents. I'd just started formulating words of what I'd actually say out loud, when Damon's figure rose beside me.

"I'll give you a minute."

This was an intimate moment, probably one of the most vulnerable ones I'd ever endure, but I wanted him there. I didn't want to confront this alone, not without him.

My hand reached up to twine its fingers through his, locking us together and I whispered, "Stay."

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><p>The conversation with my parents hadn't taken too long. I hadn't been lying when I'd told Damon I spoke to them frequently. But this time it was different. I'd never felt closer to them after their death than I had while talking to them at their gravesite. It was a silly, innocent thought, but one I held onto as we stepped through the front door of Damon's house.<p>

After the day I'd been through, especially the last two hours, I hardly thought my previously heavy heart would feel as light as it did. I'd been dealt blow after ridiculous blow and yet, here I was, fingers still twined between Damon's and pride swelling in my chest over what I'd accomplished. I wasn't naive enough to embrace the tempting thought that I was completely over my parent's incident, but satisfied enough in the knowledge that I'd overcome a very large obstacle in getting there.

And it was because of Damon. His faith in me and relentless pushing had gotten me to this semi-decent place I'd found myself mentally. We hadn't spoken much on the ride home. I assumed he was giving me ample time to process the hurdle I'd just jumped, but all of the processing had been done. Now it was time to show my gratitude.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted back there," I stated softly as we stepped into the kitchen.

"In all fairness, I gave you permission to use me as your punching bag whenever I pushed you too hard," he justified with a shrug. "You just took me up on the offer."

I rolled my eyes as he made his way over to the counter, pouring water into a teakettle from the sink. "Damon, I'm capable of accepting when I do something that I shouldn't have. You don't always have to be the martyr and throw it back onto yourself."

He shrugged again and made his way over to place the stainless steel kettle onto the stove. "I was just smoothing things over."

He was still adjusting the knob when I took the steps to wrap my hands around his slender waist. "And I appreciate that, but let me own this one," I spoke into his back. "I'm sorry for being a grade-A bitch when you were just trying to help."

"Well then," he started, vibrations pounding against my chest from his chuckle, as he turned around under my hold to slide his own arms around my shoulders. His playful smirk was back, the one that had been missing all evening, as he declared, "You're forgiven."

His head lowered to place a gentle kiss on my lips, but I interjected a second before they made contact. "Hey, I'm not finished."

He placed the quick kiss on my lips anyway, before he pulled back and peaked an eyebrow towards the ceiling.

"I wanted to say thank you," I admitted, the smile gracing my lips only supported my gratitude, while my eyes sparkled with dedication.

His eyes narrowed briefly as something flitted across his face, but before I had the chance to analyze its reason for encroaching on our moment, he'd already recomposed himself. "You're welcome."

Still, the unknown source behind that rapid break lingered in my mind as I tightened my arms around his waist and stressed, "Not just for this, Damon, but for everything you've helped me through this summer. I know I'm still working through issues, but I've come a long way since you popped up." I paused a second to let the words sink in before I softly declared, "You're incredible with me."

This time, the shadows that slid over his face weren't quickly hidden behind his confident front. They remained as his naturally clear blue eyes suddenly clouded with turmoil. Before I knew what was happening, he'd maneuvered his body from within the confinements of my hold and swept his hand through his hair, clearly distraught over something.

"You should know this, Elena, I'm not the perfect guy you see in your head right now," he confessed from a distance. The separation made me uneasy.

"I know you have a past," I replied hesitantly, trying my best to wrap my mind over the sudden temperature change of the room.

"But you don't know what got me to change," he admitted, ashamed. I waited anxiously as he paced around the kitchen a few times, clearly in some sort of battle over his own thoughts, and when he abruptly stopped, I braced myself for what came next. "I've been trying to find the right moment to tell you and I know that after everything you've been through today that this moment shouldn't be it, but I can't keep this from you. Not with the way you were just looking at me."

"But I haven't told you about Stefan," I replied stupidly. It was the best I could come up with because his actions and nature were making me just as unsettled as he appeared.

"I know," he released with a sigh, "but you need to hear this before you decide anything else about my character."

I narrowed my eyes to hone in on the apprehension in his and asked, "Why are you so afraid?"

"Just sit," he directed, pulling out a chair for me in the process. There was a pleaded edge to his voice that had my insides shifting in a non-pleasurable way.

And when I took a seat like he'd ordered, I wanted nothing more than to smooth those discomforting lines from his face. I didn't like seeing him this way, especially after he'd helped me through such a difficult experience today. But as I reached out my hand and whispered, "Damon," he cut me off.

"Her name was Katherine. She was just another meaningless plaything like the others I had, but for some reason she stuck around longer," he abruptly admitted from a safe distance across the table. His hands were on the back of a chair as his face contorted into a grimace. "It wasn't love - I can promise you that - but there was certainly fascination there that made me do things I'm not proud of."

I cocked my head to the side, uncertain over where he planned on going with this story, when he continued, "We'd just left a party. We'd both done a lot of shit that night that had our heads spinning and vision out of whack, but she wanted to drive home, and I didn't have the mental functions or the desire to tell her no."

He then paused. I wasn't sure if it was for dramatic effect, but it had my breath hitching in my throat. When his eyes drifted from the classic wooden table and onto mine, there was so much sorrow trapped inside that I wanted to cry myself. "We made it about halfway there when she struck someone – Mary Keller to be exact."

He ripped his eyes from mine, apparently too disgusted to keep the line of contact as his hand shot into the air haphazardly. "Somewhere in the back of my mind, I understood the gravity of what we'd just done, but my head was pounding and all I remember is screaming at Katherine. She wanted to leave, and I wanted to stay. Ultimately, we settled on calling an ambulance before we took off."

Understanding slowly crept its way into my system over what he just admitted. Instinctively my hand lifted to cover my mouth in shock as I asked tentatively, "Did she," but I cut off, not sure if I wanted to know the answer. "Did Mary…"

"Yes," he supplied, "she died three days later. I saw her story on the news and it gave me the reality check I needed to get the hell out of the place I was and back here to a decent life again. Taking someone else's has that effect," he added bitterly.

"So no one knows it was you?" I questioned, doing my best to keep my judgment in check. Honestly, I was having a difficult time doing so, but I played it off well.

He looked up towards the ceiling, clearly reliving a memory, before he answered, "Her brother spoke about her on the news and I hate to admit this, but it took me 3 months to come clean. Alaric gets the credit for pushing me to do it."

"And Katherine?" I asked, apparently I was only capable of forming halfway decent questions amongst my shock.

"I said I was driving the car so she'd be left out of it," he admitted with a sigh. I couldn't read his emotion as it drifted to cover his face, but I sure as hell hoped it was regret over saving that bitch's reputation. "Mary didn't have any other family besides her brother and after a large check; he agreed to not press charges. It wasn't my idea, it was his. He appreciated my honesty and just wanted the whole incident behind, so I paid him for the funeral and medical bills and he sent me off."

Damon's fingers curled around the back of the chair, gripping the old wood hard enough that I couldn't believe it hadn't snapped, when he finally confessed, "I haven't heard from him since."

He didn't say anything after that and instead let his eyes linger onto my face, searching for my reaction to his story. There were about a trillion thoughts shooting through my mind, none in which I was ready to face just yet, and I couldn't help but feel the betrayal shoot like an arrow directed straight towards my heart.

I couldn't believe he'd kept a secret like this from me, one so defining and substantial. It was understandable that he was ashamed of his actions; he should have been because he'd taken someone's life. But he'd used me this summer, gotten under my skin and gave me faith that he was different than all of the other villains I'd come across, all the while keeping this defining secret from me that corresponded so well with the trauma of my past.

And then it clicked.

The anger ripped through me as I shot myself into the air and accused, "So that's what this summer has been about?"

"Excuse me?" he countered, taken aback by my sudden hostility.

"Your redemption," I clarified in a heated response. "You fucked up in the past so you thought you could fix my problems to make up for the ones you caused."

My vision was blinking red, but it did little to conceal the shame spread over his face. "I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind in the beginning," he admitted softly, before the shame fell and made way for the conviction in his tone. "But you and I both know that's not what this is about. You're not my redemption."

"Then what am I, Damon?" I shot back because to me it was the only thing that made sense. I was simply his subject to fix the mistakes he'd made in the past. He might have developed feelings for me along the way, but what they hell did they really matter at this point knowing and feeling what I did now after his confession.

"You're," he started, but I didn't have the restraint to let him finish. I was much too furious for that now.

"Cause all I see in you now is Stefan," I fired at him, not allowing myself to feel the flinch as my verbal whip slashed against his skin. "You're no better than him."

"Elena," he tried to reason.

"No," I interjected as my head slashed back and forth through the air. "I can't do this," I cried out because I'd let him in. I'd thrown down my protective barriers, trusted him, and let myself feel things for him that I shouldn't have. It didn't matter what he'd done to get to this point, because at the end of the day, he'd done exactly the same as Stefan.

And that was something I couldn't forgive. No matter how far I'd come this summer towards letting go of my past because it still shaped me, no matter what my future held. I'd never be able to forget that past, even if I broke the chains it had on my choices. And at the end of the day, I couldn't handle the similarity between what Damon had done and what Stefan had done when it was this grand.

"Please," he tried again, taking the steps to my side of the table as he wrapped his fingers around my arm and struggled to force me to face him.

"God damnit," I shouted because I couldn't look at him. Not now. "Don't try to push me right now!"

The tea kettle on the stove started to whistle, filling the room with an ear piercing screech, but neither that nor my threats had an effect on diverting Damon from his mission. He didn't back down and his strength was far superior to mine as he whipped me around to face him. "You need to understand, I tried to do the right thing," he pleaded, his eyes wide and frantic as that blue tore into my chest, clutching around my heart.

"I know you did, Damon, but it was too little too late," I released just as the tears started to strain the backs of my eyes. Damnit, this day was a fucking rollercoaster that refused to end. So many emotions had coursed through me today that felt as limp as a rag doll.

His fingers sunk desperately into my skin as he held me in place. "I'm trying to get you to understand."

He was so damn vulnerable. Fear and hysteria were streaming from his eyes and the worst thing was, I wanted to soothe him. I hated seeing that look shadowing his typical splendor, knowing I was the reason he felt this way. One side of my mind was screaming to give in to my heart - he'd been honest and wasn't that the most important part of this devastation?

But the other side, the more prominent side, could only see Stefan now. What he'd taken from me and the person I'd become because of it. And that was what made this so unbearable. Damon was the one thing pulling me from my past, righting the wrongs Stefan had done, and now my villain and savior had molded into one. I couldn't differentiate, not right now at least with Damon's confession so raw in my mind.

So as the tears started to, once again, tumble down my cheeks, I reached up and touched his. My fingers swept over the delicate skin as I reigned in my desire to stay and said sadly, "I understand completely, but right now I can't look at you." The last words had been forced out, each one separate and distinct as I reigned in the surge of new tears and concluded, "It's too damn hard, so please, just give me some space."

His lip twitched at my plea. The same internal battle that'd been taking place earlier seemed to be in effect again before Damon closed his eyes and nodded his head. He didn't speak another word, which I was thankful for. And before I could second guess my decision, I swiftly made my way through his front door, desperate for distance and much needed night air.

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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	19. Chapter 19

**My goal was to get this thing posted so much sooner, but then I got sick and went on a mini-vacation and work piled up. Long story short, real life got in the way. I apologize for the 'not so happy' ending for the last time around and for leaving you guys hanging so long. I really try my hardest not be that evil.**

**Big thanks to one of my favorite strumpets, Mirna (aka. sauriemilia), for looking over this chapter for me. You rock, babe!**

_**Hope you all like the new chapter.**_

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><p>Days. It had been days since the night Damon had sent me hurtling through his front door, eager for fresh air and much needed space to configure my thoughts – which were still a bloody mess. It'd also been days since I'd spoken to him. Besides the initial onslaught of missed calls and ignored text messages, he'd respected my wish for distance. It's what I'd wanted, what I'd needed after the bomb he'd dropped, but that separation came at a price. One I'd already assumed would wreak havoc on my heart. And it did.<p>

Every day I spent away from him, I felt weaker. That pull that was always present grew stronger within me, but I understood that if I gave into it, that tether would lead me straight back to him. And honestly, I wasn't sure if I was ready for that. He'd become a crucial part of me over the summer, there was no denying that, but ultimately he'd lied to me. Every blissfully memory I had regarding him was now tarnished with the defining lie he'd finally had the decency to reveal and because of that effect, I wasn't sure where we stood anymore. I wasn't sure where _I _stood.

So I'd done what I do best; I locked that spider web of conflicting emotions deep within my chest and focused my attentions on Jenna's bachelorette party. Thankfully enough, the wedding was still on. No thanks to me, really, considering their fighting had only increased when Jenna discovered me crashing through the door the evening I returned from Damon's. In my hysteria, I'd accused her of keeping Damon's secret from me only to find out she had no idea. Apparently, I wasn't the only female who hadn't been informed of what Ric and my boyfriend talked about during their 'guy' chats. But they'd recovered. Albeit, through lots of shouting, but they'd recovered nonetheless.

Still, my conscious over almost shattering my aunt and Ric's relationship had sent me diving into party planning. Caroline and Bonnie joined my cause and thankfully kept their mouths relatively shut when it came to my recent events with Damon.

The distraction had worked so far, offering my mind plenty of outlets so it didn't focus on my questionable relationship. But when I left my two besties, Jenna, and a few of her friends waiting downstairs for the party limo and stepped into my room to switch my necklace, I came face to face with my calendar. More importantly, the red circle that marked the day I returned to Richmond University. And despite my best efforts, my mind drifted towards Damon and the tinier blue circle around the date a few days before it.

The mark signified the 3 month cut-off I'd drawn the day Damon and I had officially declared ourselves a couple. Visualizing it now, I should been relieved. In retrospect, this new revelation regarding Damon's past and how it altered my view of his character offered me the much needed out to end what we had. It presented the perfect reason for our inevitable break-up and supplied the powerful surges of betrayal and rage to leave him behind in Mystic Falls.

But all that mark did was remind me of the girl I'd been when I'd made it. The one with well-established rules and guidelines to keep her heart protected. Maybe if I'd stuck to those rules, Damon wouldn't have felt the need to elaborate on his past. This situation might never had happened, but I also wouldn't have started breaking free. I certainly wouldn't have unloaded my honesties on the three women I held dearest to my heart when things with Damon and I started to fall apart. And I absolutely wouldn't have had the courage to finally confront my parents and forgive myself for playing a part in burying them in that graveyard.

As my mind played through these moments, it ultimately led me to main problem I kept circling back to. The one that masked the truth that Damon had played a vital role in my growth this summer. And that was Stefan and his role in all of this.

Despite what changes – positive or negative – Damon had brought into my life, he still had a past too similar to Stefan's for me to ignore. It was that similarity of poor, monumental, life-altering choices that had kept me from heading to his house or picking up whenever he tried to make contact. Because in reality, I'd known it the second that Damon had stepped into my line of sight that he was dangerous for me and I'd ignored every warning sign. I'd somehow conceived the idea that he was different than the others, different from Stefan, only to have the rug pulled out from under me again. And at the end of the day, it only proved he was more like Stefan than I would ever be comfortable with. And in a way, that revelation combined with the lie Damon had kept from me, hurt almost as bad as what Stefan did to start this whole mess.

However, that didn't mean that the proverbial knife wasn't continuously twisting in my heart due to our separation. I'd spent most days and nights this summer with Damon by my side and my body, as well as my mind missed the effects my boyfriend offered. Those longings were spiking heavily through my veins when I slipped my replacement necklace around my neck, but I locked my eyes tight to hold back the threatening tears and took a deep, calming breath.

It had the desired effect I was aiming for. And with one last, lingering look at the blue oval, I twisted in my heels and pushed Damon to the back of my mind. Tonight was Jenna's bachelorette party and I refused to let infectious thoughts of Damon spoil the evening for neither her nor myself.

When I breached the hallway, muffled sobs came from my aunt's bedroom. Narrowing my lids, I listened a few seconds longer and followed the sound to the conjoined master bathroom. The door was shut and it was apparent my aunt wanted this moment to herself, but I refused to sit idly back and let her drown in her own despairs on a day where she was supposed to be celebrating.

Without wasting another moment, I opened the door. Jenna, who was seated on the toilet with the lid down, lifted her head from between her hands and stared at me in horror. I was at a loss for what possibly had her in hysterics, but as my eyes honed in on the plastic stick resting on the bathroom counter beside her, I got a pretty clear idea.

The confirmation of two pinks lines instead of one wasn't necessary, but she offered it anyway as she lifted the stick haphazardly into the air and muttered, "So much for birth control and it's 99.9% affectivity rates."

Suddenly, everything made sense. My aunt's mood swings, irritability, and general disdain for all forms of physical contact lately were a result of this. I wasn't familiar with pregnancy nor had any clue as to what I could possibly say to make the situation any better.

Ignoring the dumbfounded expression on my face, my aunt's stormy eyes reached for mine like I had all of the answers. "What am I going to do, Elena? We aren't ready for this," she whispered before muffling her words back into her own palms. Tears had just started to leak down her cheeks again when she brought her attention back to me and shot off more concerns. "We barely have the finances to get by as it is. And oh god, Alaric isn't even sure he wants children. What if he leaves me?"

Jenna's hands were trembling as she slammed the pee stick onto the counter and it was apparent a millions thoughts were swirling through her mind. If I didn't get my shit together, she'd be a full on hysterical train-wreck within seconds. So without further hesitation, I swiped the uncertainty from my face and wrapped my arms around my loving aunt.

Her face tilted so her tears fell onto the bare skin of my upper arm as I coaxed, "Everything is going to be just fine. You and Ric are going to get through this and there's no way in hell he's going to leave you. I'll hunt him down if he does."

My statement produced no result of a laugh from Jenna's end. Instead, her body shook a few more times in my hold and she cried, "He's not ready to be a father. And I'm sure as hell not ready to be a mother."

At that, I finally knew what to say. I wasn't great when it came to offering support and I certainly wasn't spectacular when it came to offering advice on relationships, but I could prove Jenna was ready for this. My hands slid to take her cheeks between my palms and force her attention as I stressed, "Don't think about your finances, you have months to get those in order and as for Ric, you guys have worked through enough this summer to prove he's not going anywhere. You've been a nutcase and he's still here because he loves you."

That resulted in a weak, understanding smile on my aunt's lips. I used it as encouragement as I continued on. "And yeah, the timing might not be what you expected, but you're ready for this, Jenna. Don't doubt that for one second because you have proof of that right in front of you. You've raised me for the past couple of years and you've done one hell of a job."

Skepticism streamed from her irises as she refuted, "You were great when I got you. And a baby is different than a teenager."

"I'm not saying it's going to be easy," I corrected. "It'll be a learn-as-you-go process, but what matters most is that this baby comes into a loving home. And that, well, that is where you're going to excel. Because no matter how many times I've tried to push your love away, you've thrown it right back at me. So if having you as my aunt is any indication, then this baby is going to be one lucky kid to have you as a mom."

"You think so?" she asked softly, solid proof that my words had both marveled her and ignited some faith in her own abilities.

"I know it," I replied confidently as the tears slowly stopped trickling down her cheeks. Color was returning to her features and I wished this moment had happened another day, one where I'd have the ample amount of time to console her fully. However, we didn't and the presence of my aunt's party guest's was still in the back of my mind.

I swiped a remaining line of liquid from Jenna's cheek and said, "But we have plenty of time to stress out over this. Right now, there are nine ladies downstairs waiting to show you the time of your life because you're getting married to someone who loves you so much it makes me want to puke."

I'd tried to be funny, lighten the mood a bit. Instead, my comment sent Jenna's irises into a sea of white as she gasped, "I can't tell them all before I tell Ric. That wouldn't be right."

"That's fine," I assured and after some quick thinking, I directed, "Just have all of the girl's order their shots for you through me. I'll make sure we keep your secret between the two of us."

This wasn't going to be easy, but I was confident that after a little coercing I could work something out with the bartender so he'd discreetly make me non-alcoholic shots.

"When did this happen?" Jenna asked, interrupting my fury of problem solving solutions.

I cocked my head to the side and questioned, "What?"

"You growing up into this wonderfully insightful, caring woman?" she answered with a familiar smile on her lips. "I used to be the one giving you advice and suddenly I'm the one acting like a teenager."

I laughed a little at her description of us. I clearly didn't see the same women she did. To me, even during an incident like this, she'd always be the responsible, maternal type amongst us. "You're having a baby, you're allowed to freak out a little bit," I reminded. "And as for me, I'm still working on getting to your insight level. I have more than my fair share of motherly moments to pay you back for."

"I'd say you're already there," she assessed with adoration lacing her voice. Her eyes lingered on me a second longer before she got down to action. "Now clean me up so we can get back downstairs. I'm sure they've already played 10 games of pin the penis on the hunk without me."

I released a relieved breath of air into the bathroom and goaded, "Eager are we?"

"Eager for a distraction," she clarified.

Well that was certainly something I understood. With a flick of my wrist, I pulled a few sheets of toilet paper from the roll and handed them to her. As she worked on the last bit of mascara under her eye, I placed my hand on her knee and wanted to offer her one last bit of encouragement before we headed into the living room full of horny housewives.

"I love you. And for what it's worth, I think you're going to be a brilliant mom."

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><p>Jenna was doing a flawless job of playing her drunken role. With pink penis' bouncing atop her head along her headband and another penis flashing various neon colors around her neck, she let one of the greased male strippers lead her onto stage. She induced the perfect amount of stumbles and giggles to fool the ignorant eye that she'd had a few too many drinks and fell onto her designated chair with minimal grace.<p>

"I think another 2 shots is all it's gonna take to have your aunt upchucking besides the dumpsters out back," Bonnie yelled into my ear. We were sitting a few tables back from the main stage at _Sexy Naughty Things_, separate from the older women of our group who were currently at the bar hooting and hollering as _Lucky Luke_ ripped off his pants in front of my aunt. Jenna appeared traumatized and I laughed at both her reaction and the secret knowledge of getting the one-up on my friends. Neither had any clue that every time I visited the bar, instead of getting a red headed slut or jack and coke, I was simply ordering cranberry juice and diet coke.

"And I'm sure as soon as she gets this lap dance you'll be sending Elena to the bar to get those shots," Caroline goaded from my other side along with her own round of laughter at my aunt.

Bonnie cocked her head to the side and smiled her devilish leer. "Well, maybe at least one of the two. There's still a good hour before the club shuts down and I don't want her passing out too early."

"You'd be amazed at my aunt's alcohol limit," I teased, still laughing as _Lucky Luke_ gyrated his hips up and down Jenna's body. At the current moment, it appeared all thoughts of the newfound development in her belly had been forgotten and I prayed it was true. "I'm pretty sure you'd pass out before she did."

"Is that a challenge?" Bonnie asked; eyes narrowed.

"You can make it one if you'd like," I taunted, gaining way too much pleasure in the idea of my aunt 'out drinking' my overly-confident best friend.

After mulling the idea around her head a few seconds, Bonnie let out a sigh and replied, "Nah, it's her night. Don't want to ruin it."

My eyes instinctively rolled beneath their sockets as I mocked, "Right."

We all fell into comfortable silence then, sipping on our drinks and enjoying the show. _Lucky Luke_ had just started rotating his spandex covered ass against my aunt's crotch when Caroline pondered, "I wonder if the boys are having fun."

At that, my smile vanished. It was common knowledge that Jenna and Ric had wanted to celebrate their bachelor/bachelorette parties on the same evening. Ric's group was located a few streets away at _Sexy Little Things_, the female version of our very club. I'd done a relatively decent job of keeping thoughts of Damon and all things concerning nasty strippers from my mind, but Caroline and her alcohol induced moment completely shattered my ability.

It made sense that she'd be curious, considering Tyler was there, but I wished she kept the worrying to herself. I had no right to be jealous of what Damon was probably doing nor did I want thoughts of him to infiltrate and stain the elation of our evening.

So I answered with a simple, dismissive, "I'm sure they are," and begged that was the end of the discussion.

Unfortunately, Caroline wasn't nearly finished. She turned on me and locked her greyish-blue eyes on mine and apologized, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought the guys up."

"No, you shouldn't," Bonnie scolded, her eyes still transfixed on the show being performed on stage.

Caroline shot her a pointed look before focusing her attention back on me. "But I am curious if you've talked to him."

I let out a frustrated sigh, wishing that for once my optimistic best friend would just leave things be and pleaded, "Really, can we not get into that tonight?"

"Please," Bonnie deadpanned, supporting my resistance. "I'm actually enjoying myself."

Caroline scoffed. I'm sure the alcohol in her system was playing a large part in the whole charade, but she refused to let the issue drop. "That means you haven't and I really think that you need to."

Of course she did, because it was in her nature to have faith in anyone. It didn't matter what a person had done because there was always a positive outcome that could be spun afterwards. It was a characteristic of hers I loved and simultaneously loathed. This instance it was the latter.

"Maybe eventually I will, but I'm not ready yet," I offered because it was the truth. Maybe I'd bring myself to talk to him, eventually, but then again maybe I wouldn't. I was having a difficult time as it was keeping myself from running back to him because the feelings were still there. Despite what he'd done, I still felt his emotional pull, but at the same time I also felt the betrayal and the disdain. Everything was muddled in my brain and I desperately needed her to understand. "The fact that he got drunk and smashed a car into a random person kind of has me with my guards up."

Her eyes widened at my bluntness, although it wasn't her first time hearing about what Damon had done. I'd told both her and Bonnie the day after my incident, before begging them for no further interrogations. Unfortunately, Caroline was terrible at taking instructions, and that trait was proven further as she placed her hands on the glass table and leaned forward. "He, personally, wasn't the one driving. And alcohol wasn't an issue, it was the acid."

Suddenly, a piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Little comments Damon had made about Caroline's support and her being his biggest ally now sounded through my mind. With the information she'd just supplied - information I didn't even know - it gave me the indication I might not have been the one to initially tell her about Damon's accident.

I leaned closer towards her and disregarded the show on stage completely as my eyes narrowed in her direction. "Caroline, why do I suddenly get the feeling you've known about this for a while?"

Her eyes gave her away instantly. No verbal confirmation was needed that my accusation had been correct, but after a sigh she pulled back to distance our miniscule space and admitted sheepishly, "Because I have."

Bonnie scoffed at my side, but kept her attention on the stage. I, however, let my mouth drop to reveal my astonishment and felt her betrayal completely coincide Damon's. It was one thing for a guy to lie to me, but her; that was beyond believable.

"That's great," I shouted, although the music blasting from the club's stereo did a marvelous job of silencing my outburst from the other guests. "Not only did he keep this monumental piece from me, but so did you. Someone who's supposed to be my best friend!"

Instantly, she went on the defense. "I only found out a couple of weeks before you and I wasn't supposed to. Tyler let it slip." The words came out as a rush, which they should have because I was seconds away from ripping her beautiful blonde hair straight out of its roots. I'd never felt the need to get violent with one of friend's, but she was seriously pushing my control.

Then her arm extended to try and grasp onto my hand, which I instantly pulled back against my chest, as she stressed, "But, Elena, you have to know he wanted to tell you. He was a wreck inside, but I told him to hold off until he knew you were ready."

That was great. Not only had she kept the secret from me, but she'd also insisted Damon do the same. I had no idea what she'd been thinking or who she cared about more; Damon or myself, at this point. Currently, it seemed like him. "And why the hell would you do that?" I spat back.

"Because he was helping you, don't you see that?" she urged, hands gripping onto the table.

"Sure, he was helping me," I rationalized, "But what the fuck does that have anything to do with keeping this from me?"

A small, understanding smile crept over her lips, as she shook her head slowly from side to side and replied, "Can you honestly tell me that if you'd found out earlier you wouldn't have walked away from him and all of the progress he was bringing out in you?"

"Reality check; I still walked away," I refuted.

"And I get why you did; I do," she insisted, before throwing her hand over her heart. "His timing was terrible and the only reason I haven't pushed you on the issue is because of that fact. I'm proud of how you confronted your parents and I think he was too. So much that he couldn't keep the secret from you anymore."

"He shouldn't have kept it in the first place! So stop defending him," I shouted back. My mind was having a difficult time wrapping around the concept that Caroline would choose to defend Damon over me. "Are you going to defend Stefan now too?"

Her brows furrowed at my accusation before an incredulous look slipped over her features and she remarked, "You and I both know Damon is nothing like Stefan."

"They both killed someone because of bad choices they made," I muttered in return.

At that, Caroline finally lost her composure. Her hands shot into the air dramatically as she stressed, "How do you not see that Damon is more like you in this story than anyone else?"

"How the hell do you figure that?" I questioned because there was no way in hell Damon compared to me at all in this story. I hadn't killed someone and taken them from their family. I _was_ that family left with no one. It was completely absurd to relate me with anyone who had the capability to rip a life from this world.

"Katherine was the one who drove the car, not Damon. He messed up by letting her drive and I'm sure he's had to live with that every day since, just like what you've had to live with by letting Stefan drive," she emphasized before taking a deep breath. There was trepidation in her eyes as she chose her next words carefully. "The only difference between you two is the fact that he was physically there and you weren't."

"He let her drive away, Caroline," I refuted, but my voice didn't have the same heat behind it as before. Thoughts were shifting, rearranging themselves as her words sunk in and for the first time since Damon's big reveal, I found myself faltering.

Caroline, who was oblivious to the gears cranking in my head, kept going. "Yeah, he made a bad choice, Elena. But he realized that and tried to fix it. You can be angry that he lied, you can be angry that he made a stupid choice, but you can't be angry at him for resembling anything that Stefan is or did."

She stopped speaking then, her chest rising and falling in rapid succession, as she noticed my expression shifting with my emotions. They were still adjusting frantically as I tried to grasp onto my views. Unfortunately, they were warping too as I began noticing the similarities in Damon's and my roles in our incidents. We weren't exactly the same person in our stories, but Caroline had a point. If anything, Damon was more like me than Stefan. He hadn't killed Mary; he'd simply made a stupid mistake, one that he'd probably revisited as many times as I'd revisited mine.

Still, the new revelations had me wary. Was it really as simple as Damon making a mistake? Had I really thrown a fit at his house over simply lying? Had I construed the situation all in my mind due to the fact that my emotions had been fried throughout the day?

I wasn't sure, but Caroline certainly seemed to. She'd always been a voice of reason, one I'd only recently realized I'd taken for granted over the years since she was leaving me, but she _had _been a supporter of Damon from the start.

So, I shifted my gaze over to Bonnie, who'd uncharacteristically remained a bystander for this argument, and decided to get her thoughts. In a little over a week, she'd been the one I'd be going to for decision making concerns anyway.

"And what's your opinion?"

"Honestly?" she questioned, obviously taken aback by the concept that her opinion counted in this subject. And after a moment's hesitation, she took a sip of her drink, kept her eyes focused on the glass, and offered, "I think Caroline has a point."

"Are you kidding me?" I merely whispered because it was one thing for Caroline to claim Damon's side over mine, but I never expected it from Bonnie. She wasn't even a fan of Damon's. So for her to admit I'd over-reacted made everything all the more serious.

Bonnie threw her hand up into the air at my statement. "Hold up, we all know I'm not a huge advocate for the 'Damon is amazing' campaign that you've both been on for most of the summer. But I will call things like I see them." She then honed her cinnamon orbs directly on me as she softened her tone and reasoned, "And yes, Elena, in this instance I have to back Caroline. Did Damon fuck up his timing? Absolutely. Is he perfect? No. Hell, none of us are. But he's not Stefan."

"And I'm not saying this to make it harder for you. I'm only saying it because I think it will help you understand," Caroline started, without giving me a second to process Bonnie's words.

I turned on her and asked, "What do you need to say?" because guilt was already sweeping its way through my system, tangling with the rage, disappointment, and deception I'd felt earlier. Honestly, there wasn't much else she could say to make me feel any worse.

Sadly, I was wrong.

"Think about what you've worked through this summer in order to forgive yourself about your parent's incident," she insisted. "And then think about Damon and what effect you lashing out might have had."

I did as told. My mind swirled through the issues Damon had helped me work through this summer, all of my fears, my insecurities, and my guilt over what had happened. He'd lifted me from the dark cloud I'd pulled myself in since my parents death – the one I'd thrown myself into because of the anger I felt towards Stefan and ultimately myself for playing a part in his location that night.

Considering Damon hadn't been the one to hit his victim, at some point, he'd had to of gone through the same process he'd helped me work though. Maybe it hadn't been as bad. His parent's hadn't been taken from him, but then again, he'd never worked through that either. He'd simply spiraled down that destructive path that led to the incident.

He'd told me Alaric helped him work through things and before I had no idea what he really meant. Now I did. All of the pieces slipped perfectly into his mysterious puzzle and the shame I felt was gut-wrenching. There was no guessing what state he was in now or what damaging, reverse effects I'd had on his healing process by calling him out on his past. Labeling him Stefan clearly hadn't been a great move on my part either.

I felt wretched, the lowest of the fucking low, because I hadn't taken the time to differentiate between my past and my present, nor Damon's past and his present. They were all a huge maze of parallel roles, but now I could see they were similar in different ways than I had insisted. And instead of giving Damon a moment to explain himself, I'd thrown his guilt back into his face. After everything he'd done for me this summer, that was how I repaid him.

The lying and other mistakes Damon had made faded into the background to make room for the clarity of what I had to do. I needed to see him and fix the fractures I might have caused.

But as I just settled onto my mission at hand, Bonnie sent me a reminder of our location. "Alright, enough of this," she dismissed, tossing her hand a few times through the air before pointing in Jenna's direction. "I think you've managed to inject enough guilt for Elena's night to officially be spoiled. If you haven't forgotten, we're here for Jenna and she's stumbling off the stage as I speak."

Both Caroline and my eyes darted to the stage where Jenna was performing quite the show. Her feet were wobbling beneath her and two waitresses were helping her step down the four stairs leading from the stage. My aunt's eyes swept and locked on mine and they stressed just how ready she was to vacate the premises and end her night.

I couldn't have agreed more. There was a task I had to accomplish and if she was giving me the go to get it completed sooner, than I wouldn't hesitate to take it.

"Alright, time to go, ladies," I declared, lifting my butt from the seat to alert Jenna's friends at the bar.

Before I was able to take a single step, Caroline's fingers wrapped around my wrist as she pleaded, "Please don't hate me for keeping things from you."

If I wasn't mistaken, I was pretty damn sure I could see moisture in the corners of her eyes. All of her thoughts were exposed on her face. She was worried over her betrayal and the fact that she'd pushed me this evening. It was understandable that she'd fear these things, considering I hadn't always been the easiest person to console or forgive. But I had bigger problems on my mind. Plus, she was leaving soon and as much as I wished she'd been honest with me, I could appreciate why she'd held off on the information.

So I pulled her into me and responded, "I could never hate you and I understand why you didn't tell me."

Her grip tightened around me as she extended the embrace a few seconds longer. And when we pulled apart, I insisted, "But let's go. It's time to take Jenna home."

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><p>The limo ride back was pretty uneventful. Most of the older women had passed out within moments of our thirty minute ride back. Considering how much alcohol most of them had taken in, I wasn't surprised. As for the rest of us, well, we fell into innocent chatter about the events of the evening: which male strippers we'd thought were most attractive, which ones we'd found most laugh-worthy, and which moves seemed outer-worldly.<p>

When the limo finally pulled up to the house, I released a relieved breath of air. I was ready to end this portion of our night and charge off to hopefully repair any damage I may have caused Damon. Caroline and Bonnie were easy to set on their way, but it was a tedious task directing Jenna's friends to various spare rooms and comfortable sleeping spaces throughout the house.

It wasn't until we'd reached the last friend and I offered up my room that Jenna turned to look at me, realizing what I was insisting. We neatly placed her friend Pearl beneath my sheets and exited the room when my aunt wrapped me up in her arms.

"Thank you for this evening. Despite everything that's happening, it was a great way to get things off of my mind and I really had a fantastic time."

I smiled into her hair which had fallen all over my face and replied, "I'm glad I could help."

After a few more seconds she pulled back and placed her hands on either side of my shoulders. "But you're heading off to Damon's now, aren't you?"

I cocked my head to the side and wondered if it was the greatest idea. My aunt had been dealt a heavy blow of her own today and while I still needed to fix the one I'd thrown Damon, I wasn't sure if doing it at the expense of leaving Jenna alone was the best option. "If that's alright with you," I asked hesitantly.

"Honey, I'll be fine," she assured easily, swiping her hand through the air to emphasize she truly meant it. "And in all honesty, I know I've been a bit of a nutcase lately and I really haven't been myself…"

But I cut her off. "Jenna, you don't need to apologize to me. I'll love you no matter how bat shit crazy you get."

She laughed at my comment, a full 'feel it in your belly laugh', which had a smile permeating my entire face. It was wonderful sight to see her laugh that hard after witnessing her breakdown in the bathroom earlier. Within seconds she'd recomposed herself and declared, "Still, I haven't been very much of a mother to you lately and I just want to let you know that I think you're doing the right thing."

Her statement officially confirmed that I'd made a mistake. Hearing it from Caroline and Bonnie was one thing, but my aunt had years of maturity on both of them and if she claimed heading to Damon's was the right thing, then I was 100% certain that it was.

My eagerness to get to him had spiked to a new level when Jenna leaned in and offered me one last hug. "At another time I'd have more words of wisdom to enhance this moment we're having, but frankly I'm exhausted." As she pulled back, she added, "So get out of here and I'll see you tomorrow."

That was the only direction I needed before I'd spun on my heels and slipped out the front door.

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><p>Getting to Damon's house hadn't taken nearly as long as it should have, but it was late so I might have pushed the pedal to the floor a little more than necessary. When I inserted the spare key - located underneath one of the ten potted plants out front - and twisted the lock, I still had no idea whether he'd be home yet or not. The strip clubs were surely to have closed down by now, but I wasn't sure if they'd gone on some drunken adventure afterwards. I'd hoped not, but figured I'd wait up for him if that were the case.<p>

After slipping out of my heels, I twined the straps through my finger. The pads of my feet tip-toed across the expanse of wooden floor boards and up the staircase to his room. The door was shut; a clear indication that he'd already made it home. Stealthily, I pushed open the door only to see Damon sprawled out on top of the comforter. He was still dressed in his clothes as his chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his breathing. His hair was a mess and the top 3 buttons of his black button-down were undone as though he'd given the concept of undressing a go before the alcohol had won out.

At the sight of him, my heart did that old familiar flip-flop in my chest. As much as he'd hurt me with lying, and as much as I'd recently thought he resembled Stefan, well, they were nothing when stacked against the flood of emotion I felt when in his presence. Even sound asleep, I was connected to him. It was a foreign feeling, one I still didn't completely understand yet because even Stefan hadn't reached these sorts of depths. There was something different this time, for sure, but as my thoughts drifted towards Stefan, I shooed them away and softly placed my heels beside the bed.

Carefully, I slid myself beside Damon. I wasn't certain whether I wanted to wake him. He seemed so peaceful and in this state, I was able to study the features that I'd tried to keep my mind from fixating on over the past few days. They were still striking, but asleep, Damon seemed much more innocent than I'd ever given him credit for. His brows were relaxed, such a contrast to the life they normally held when he was speaking. His hair was a disheveled mess around his sculpted face and his lips were parted as oxygen slipped in and out. That smell of his breath was the only indication of the distress I'd caused him lately.

He'd told me once that Whiskey and Bourbon were his favorite drinks, depending on the day. I'd later learned they were extremely similar and that Bourbon was just a specific type of Whiskey. The scent of standard Whiskey had been on his breath all summer, but as I leaned closer I could faintly smell the difference and knew tonight had been a Bourbon night. It was the first time I'd breathed the intensity of it through my lungs and knew it was his consoling drink; the one he used to drown his sorrows.

It made my heart ache.

And although it wouldn't have caused him anymore pain to leave him to his slumber, I wanted to reassure him that I was there. That I'd made a mistake and wasn't thinking when I launched my vicious words in his direction.

My hand extended to softly trace the sharp line of his jaw. I half-expected my touch to go unnoticed since he'd clearly thrown back quite a few shots this evening, but his eyes crept slightly open at the gesture. His normally striking blue was hazy and rimmed in red; the white, glazed over – signs he was still partially asleep.

His lids didn't retract further, instead remained heavy, as he whispered hoarsely, "Elena."

The way it was spoken left it difficult to differentiate whether it had been a statement or question. Regardless, it still held surprise and reverence. Maybe he thought I was a figment of his imagination or some alcohol induce dream.

My finger continued to trace the angles of his cheek when I slipped a smile over my lips and whispered, "Yeah, baby. It's me."

Damon fought to keep his eyes open, but a ghost of a smile played on his lips as he asked, "Will you be here in the morning?"

And just like the calendar mark this morning, his question had my mind reflecting on the girl I'd been at the beginning of the summer; the one who'd come for strictly sex and left halfway through the night. It was a vast difference from the one I was now. Because sex had been the furthest from my mind. I'd come to apologize and confront our issues - exactly like he'd been pushing me to do with my personal ones all summer. Unfortunately, that didn't appear likely at this point, but I realized that could come tomorrow. For now I'd settle for just being here with him.

So, as the former girl sifted from my thoughts and they landed on his reminder of tomorrow – another day closer to the end of our affair – our exploration date swept into focus. We only had very little time left together and I'd thrown away a perfect excuse to end things. I wasn't sure what we were going to do from here on out. However, I knew the answer to his question.

His eyes had drifted closed and I wasn't sure if he'd already faded back into unconsciousness. Still, I threw out the only answer to his question anymore.

"Of course."

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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	20. Chapter 20

**Authors Notes at the the end this time.**

**Huge thanks to my friend Mirna (sauriemilia) for checking this thing over for me. Your purple ramblings make my world go round.**

_**Hope you like the chapter.**_

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><p>Light creeping in through cracks in the curtains or birds chirping at the break of dawn didn't wake me the next morning. Instead, it was the sensation of warmth dancing along my neck. Warmth so damn familiar, I'd recognize it anywhere. The only difference this time was the faint smell of bourbon that swept through my nostrils as words from Damon brushed against my skin.<p>

"If I'm not mistaken, I'd say I'm still drunk because I have this memory last night of you slipping in here, but surely that had to be dream right?"

His voice was hoarse as though he'd just woken up and his arm held a death grip around my waist, alleviating any idea of twisting around to face him.

"No dream, I'm here and the only thing you are is probably hung over," I replied; my voice containing the crackles of first morning speech, same as his. "What time is it anyway?"

"Six."

"Damon," I groaned, eyes tempted to seal back up, "how are you even up this early?"

His grip along my stomach loosened a little as he let out a sigh. The breath slipped along my neck and sent a few strands of loose hair fluttering under my jaw before he questioned, "Do you even need to ask?"

"No, I guess not," I answered softly. Clearly my returning presence was something he couldn't just disregard for a little while longer, but my mind was too hazy in this state to address any of our issues. My head felt heavy along with my lids and I craved the sleep he'd pulled me from. "But can this wait a few more hours when I'm conscious?"

He hesitated and after his toned stomach had expanded and retracted a few times against my back, he finally asked, "Will you still be here when I wake up again?"

"Of course," I dismissed, repeating the very words I'd given him last night. My eyes had just slipped shut, fully intent on taking myself back to the heaven of sleep, when I realized the trepidation in his last question. Damon was still worried I was going to bolt when I came to. Maybe he thought I'd tip-toed to his side because of some alcohol-haze. It'd be fitting really since so many of my actions revolved around that inducer and the significant moments it created, but for once, alcohol hadn't been a contributing factor. I'd come here on my own will, my own instincts and desires, but he didn't know that.

For so long, I'd kept all of my thoughts to myself, never fully letting him in to the inner workings or motivations sweeping through my mind. They'd strictly been for me, but the words I'd prepared for him needed to be heard. And they needed to be heard now.

So I rolled over beneath his hold, pushing back the sting behind my eyes signifying how unprepared my body was to actually wake up, and came face to face with his cobalt blues. My heart clenched at the hazy blue rimmed in red and the tiny puffs underneath. Now, his hair was even more of a haphazard mess, darting off in random chunks, and the left side of his face was lined from the creases his pillow case had created. But although the whole image was still enough to provoke the dropping of panties from the average girl, my libido was non-existent. Because it was those pools of blue that I couldn't stop drowning in. They were a blatant reminder of the mess I'd made.

His right arm was still dangling over my waist when my lips pulled into a sad smile. "Look, you have to know how sorry I am for what I…"

"No," he refuted, cutting me off. "Elena, I'm sorry. I should…"

But I lifted my finger to his lips and cut him off in return. I couldn't handle his martyr complex this morning. Not when guilt was pressing so firmly against my chest.

"Just let me get this out before you say anything okay?" I asked with my finger still pressed against the soft swell of his lips. "And just be warned, it's long."

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded, offering me the silence to reel in my frantic array of thoughts that I'd bottled up all summer. I wasn't sure how I was possibly going to make any sense with my words, especially this early in the morning, but I had to give it my best shot. Random thoughts were still darting around when I latched onto one and gave it a go.

"For so long I've compared every man to Stefan. It didn't matter what they looked like or how they acted; I was always able to form a link. It's what I did to protect myself, let myself know that regardless of what spell these guys put me under, they were all ultimately the same and that in the end they would hurt me. The same way he did."

Damon's eyes were concentrated on mine as he listened to my words, but at the mention of my pain, a flinch creased their edges and I reigned in where I was headed with this.

"And it worked, along with some other strategies I'd set in motion, but then you happened. And I know we have our own issues and god knows I still have my own, but we've worked through them together. Never once have you sat back and let me get sucked into that darkness that follows me. Instead, you've pushed, sometimes almost too hard, but you've pushed and you never gave up on me to see the light beyond my past."

I paused, unsure of where I wanted to go next. What was I doing? Was I even making any sense? To me, I was, but to Damon, I wasn't sure. This concept of sharing my inner workings with another was foreign, but his eyes were still locked on mine, urging me forward. So I continued.

"I'm not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way; you sort of changed everything because for the first time I wasn't relating you to Stefan. I was separating you and all of the pieces you gave about your life, the same way you were separating me from him and what happened. Characteristics that were once so similar had faded; feelings and actions weren't muddled into one large bed of reality and past."

My arms swept up to rake through my hair, as I rolled onto my back and my words started coming out faster. "But then you threw that information at me on top of everything else I'd been through that day and I reverted because it was just so similar and the rug had been whipped right from underneath of me again. And I never expected that from you. Lust, strength, humor – absolutely. But not that betrayal of my trust. It hit too close to home, way too fucking close to the gut punch I went through after Stefan's news. So, of course, that was the connection I made."

"And now I know that I shouldn't have ran out on you, I should have been stronger than that," I continued. "I certainly shouldn't have said some of the things I did and I absolutely shouldn't have called you Stefan. You aren't a murderer, you were just a teenager who made a bad decision that's gonna haunt them for the rest of their life."

It was all so familiar, so fucking familiar and the possible devastating effects of my words from the other night twisted my body once again against his. My hand swept up to shape the side of his face as I stressed, "And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, for letting what's happened to me infiltrate my reaction to your past because I'm sure you've already worked through your guilt and the last thing you needed was for me to crack that dam open again. Especially after everything you've done to help create mine."

The last words of my rambling apology fell from my lips and I waited with wild eyes to see if they had any effect. I'd finally told him about Stefan and the effects he'd had on me since that devastating night. For the first time in what seemed like forever, I'd been completely honest with someone else – someone of the opposite sex – and I felt bare. Exposed. Wide open.

But before I had the chance to over-think what I'd just done and shoot into a full anxiety overload, Damon's lips were on mine. And that tender caress had my eyes drifting closed and a sigh at the back of my throat as relief swept through me. I should have known not to be worried about revealing too much. Damon, over anyone, especially now, understood how difficult it had been for me and wouldn't use the information for his own personal gain.

His hands were still on the sides of my face when he finally pulled back, just enough to rotate his forehead against mine, and teased, "You weren't kidding, that _was_ a long one."

Despite everything, I laughed. Damn did it feel good, too. "I warned you."

Damon didn't reciprocate my laugh; instead the pad of his thumb played across my skin as his expression fell. "I never wanted to hurt you like he did."

That sadness, that desperation rolling through his eyes was devastating and I needed to eliminate it pronto. "You didn't I just needed some time to figure it out," I assured, never peeling my eyes from his.

"But you forgot a really important part in that speech," he replied.

"What was that?" I asked gently, not wanting to push him further away than he was already mentally drifting.

His fingertips felt like clouds as they skimmed along the skin of my cheekbone. The delicate contact still marveled me, as he let out a sigh and answered, "The section where you yelled at me for being that asshole that keeps secrets."

He was right. That issue still needed to be addressed. I had no intention of yelling at him, but he needed to recognize why it hadn't been the right move on his part.

"You did tell me once that you'd never lie to me," I released, but regretted the statement instantly.

At my words, Damon rolled onto his back and his hands were no longer on me as shame fell over his features. Clearly, he'd already abused himself enough over this mistake, and throwing his words back into his face might not have been the best approach, but he still needed to hear my side of it. So I tried a different tactic: reasoning.

"I know Caroline warned you not to, but you should have told me sooner, Damon," I whispered. "It might have even made all of this easier knowing that you were more like me than I ever realized."

He released a sigh that spoke of understanding and regret before his topaz gems locked back on mine. "I know, but I knew you'd run and I honestly didn't think you'd come back."

It was moments like this where I could truly see the vulnerability behind the strong man I'd frolicked through my summer with. These moments were small and fleeting, and this time I wanted to be the reason behind its passing.

I rolled over onto his expanse of muscles and stacked my hands under my chin, offering the perfect level to shoot him a dazzling, forgiving smile. I begged my eyes held the same sparkle of forgiveness as I reminded, "Well I did. I'm back."

"And with one hell of an apology," he remarked, life stretching across and illuminating his face again as the Damon I preferred came back into play. His internal self-loathing disappeared as his brows flicked towards the ceiling. "I don't know how I'm gonna top that."

A giggled escaped my lips as I reveled in the comfortable moment we'd found ourselves back in. "Maybe you just shoot out a shorter version then?" With a quick cock of my head, I teased, "You know, to keep it different from mine."

"Well then," he started before curling his fingers around my upper arms and sliding me up his stomach, closer to his face. All traces of humor had vanished when he admitted earnestly, "I'm sorry, Elena. For lying, for keeping these things about myself from you, for betraying your trust, and for my timing. Which we both know was the definition of shitty. Usually, I have a bit more tact, but there's just something about you…"

"That gets your head spinning?" I finished.

One of those mesmerizing smiles of his stretched over his lips when he corrected, "I wouldn't necessarily say spinning, but you've certainly perfected the art of mind-fucking."

Me? Mind-fucking? I was a rookie compared to him. My head had been stuck in a ripping cyclone since the moment I'd stepped back into this town and came face to face with him.

Still, my lips clipped upwards at the thought that he found us evenly matched. Inching closer, I brought them to hover just beyond his and purred, "Everything I've learned about mind-fucking I've learned from you, Damon."

"Remove the mind section and I think you've got it right," he seductively declared, the taste of his breath tantalizing my lips and sparking my previously non-existent libido.

With a quirk of the brow and a pout on my lips, I challenged, "Are you insulting my prior bedroom skills?"

Instead of answering, he merely laughed at my faux offense before grabbing onto my wrists and flipping us over. My body was nestled completely beneath his as he gazed upon me warmly. I felt that same warmth settle deep in my belly, awakening pieces of me that had been hibernating over the past few days. They were wide awake now, craving his touch.

Both of my hands were still imprisoned under his hold, but Damon lifted them above my head and trapped them against the down pillow. He then let his free hand drift towards the side of my cheek as he studied my features, as if seeing me anew - and maybe he was, he knew more about me now than ever before.

That stunning blue swept one last time along my lips and back to focus on my eyes before he whispered, "I've missed you."

That simple phrase had my skin tingling and my heart setting off on a high speed chase. Typically, it was the physical that ignited my lust for him. The combination of hard muscles and defined lines that sent liquid pooling between my thighs. But this time, it'd been the gentle admiration and longing behind his words that sent fervor through my entire body. It suddenly felt alive under the weight of his words.

So I mimicked with the truth that both my mind and body understood all too well. "I've missed you too." _God, had I missed him._

I briefly saw Damon's smile expand further onto his cheeks before it disappeared against my lips, offering a deep languid kiss. His tongue ran along the crease of my lips, which instantly parted underneath to allow him entry. As it met mine and desire started to swim through my veins, he released my hands so they could dive into the raven hair atop his head. He mimicked my actions, fisting locks of chestnut between his fingers before his motions stopped.

My eyes remained sealed shut, begging for the moment to continue, but when his lips slowly peeled from mine, I knew this wasn't going to be the case. I felt his fingers curl inward, maybe in an attempt to gain control over his hyperactive libido like I was attempting to do, and his breathing was heavy as his head dipped to rest in the hollow of my neck. There was no contact of his lips like I'd been hoping for. Instead there was just warm air as his breath drifted along my skin and he groaned, "You're leaving soon."

I didn't want to hear about that now, not when things had slipped so perfectly back into place. We were in the solace of each other's arms again and I refused to let Damon drag us back to darkness with a reminder of what the future had in store. Right now, we needed to take advantage of the time we had.

I lowered my lips to place a kiss against the feathery consistency of his hair and refuted, "We still have time."

He didn't budge at the statement, building my unease over what was going through his mind, before he let out a sigh and insisted, "You're never _really_ going to be able to move on until you forgive him. You know that, right?"

My eyes popped open at the mention of Stefan during such an intimate moment. Considering we'd just patched up our last issue, it was the last topic I'd expected Damon to bring up. But he had and I wasn't going to begin to understand why. Part of me wished Damon would lift his head so I could dive into the blue of his eyes for answers, but it remained pressed against my neck.

So I made the only connection I could. "Just because I can forgive you doesn't mean that I can forgive him. You're two completely different people."

His head lifted at my statement and his lips had just parted, signifying the opposition or whatever he had ready to launch in my direction. Maybe it would have been a clarification behind his previous words. Maybe it would have given me the answer I'd been searching for just seconds ago in his eyes. Maybe it would have just been a silly line to start another argument. I wasn't sure.

All I knew was that I didn't want Stefan acting as a barrier between us anymore. I wanted his presence vanquished once and for all. So when words threatened to come from Damon's mouth, I interjected, "Can we just leave it be for right now?"

He hesitated a moment, leaving me eager to move past this issue and straight back to just us, when Damon joined me and nodded. The determination behind whatever he was about to say fell as the familiar smirk slid in to takes its place. "I just got you back, so we can talk about whatever you want to talk about," he declared, his head drifting to place butterfly kisses along my jawline, "or do whatever you want to do."

My thighs had already started to part, alerting me that my body knew exactly what it wanted to do, but my mind couldn't stop concentrating on Damon's previous determination or his relentless aspiration to fix every broken piece of my life.

It made sense now that most of what fueled his fire was the mistakes he'd made in the past, but curiosity over the other possible contributor had me blurting out, "Is Alaric the one who taught you all of your moves you've used on me?" It made sense that he'd feel responsible passing on his teacher's work to another necessary candidate.

Damon's smirk was unmistakable against my skin as he purred into my neck, "Oh, you mean, did he charm my sweet little panties off with his smoldering good looks and charisma? Did he bring down my walls through earth-trembling orgasms?" His hand swept down to mimic the curve of my side as he lowered his voice and murmured, "Did he make my heart pump faster under the delicate touch of his tongue on my pulse points?"

Damn, he sure knew how to play my body like a fucking fiddle. Despite his sexual references of my, soon to be, uncle-in-law, powerful surges were smashing between my thighs with each graze of his fingers along the base of my sequined tank-top from last night. His lips felt like fire against the overly-intensified skin of my neck and my fingers were death gripping onto his sheets to maintain some control over my heart, which felt like it was two seconds away from beating right out of my chest.

My body was on fucking overdrive, desperate for the act that I'd denied it for the past few days and Damon's sultry tone and delicate touches in optimum places had clouds of lust-induced haze rolling right in.

It took just about every bit of willpower I had to keep my eyes from drifting back in their sockets as I replied breathlessly, "No, you know what I'm asking."

To my dismay, his head lifted, but thankfully his hands remained at my sides. They crept their way underneath of my tank top to grip around the tiny curves of my waist as he answered, "Well then, partially."

Noticing my disappointment in our paused act, he cocked his head to the side and smirked – one that said 'You ask, I deliver. No complaining.'

I scowled up at him as he continued, "You set up boundaries. I didn't have any. We pretty much talked and talked and talked some more." He paused for a moment, perhaps to revisit one of their many talking session, before he redirected his eyes back onto me. "I guess you could say he's like my own personal shrink in a way. He got me to face what I didn't want to. And after realizing that I hated the person I was, he figured out the person that I wanted to be."

As much as I despised our actions coming to halt, I had to admit, it was pretty special hearing Damon talk about this tiny chunk of his life that I'd previously been kept locked from. I'd come to know and understand him so well over the course of our time together, but this portion still had holes. I had no idea what Alaric had said to help Damon cope with the choices he'd made and I still had no clue whether my words had had a devastating effect over the past few days. The only answer I had was the trace of lingering bourbon on his lips and tongue and frankly, that wasn't very positive.

But as much as curiosity was burning within me, I reigned in my previous onslaught of questions because we'd found ourselves in a good place after the havoc I'd created a few days prior. I didn't want to ruin it. So I settled for something much simpler – a compliment. "You two devised quite the impressive end result there."

The sides of his lips curled upwards, briefly exposing his smile before he pretended to ignore my praise. "But as for you, your situation was a little different and I'm kind of going off the fly."

He was still hovering over me, just beyond my touch, but electricity was crackling from the contact of his fingers on my sensitive flesh. "I'd say you're doing a relatively good job," I offered.

"But there's one area of my sessions that's been lacking lately," he countered, that smirk revealing I was guaranteed to like wherever his mind was headed. The notion was solidified as his fingers skimmed over my skin to slip beneath the cups of my bra.

"Baby, I'm already ten steps ahead of you there," I replied cheekily as his thumb grazed my eager nipples.

My eyes rolled back into their sockets, divulging in my ecstasy, when Damon slipped my tank top over my head. When I fell back onto the mattress, he followed with a hand wrapped around my back, supporting me every inch of the way. His lips latched on mine for the briefest second before he spoke up. "I'm claiming your afternoon."

"Of course you are," I retorted, not giving a shit what he was claiming later as long as he claimed my body right now. My lips recaptured his, relishing in the taste I'd missed recently as my tongue dove into his mouth. Their dance was seductive, igniting that familiar passion through every surface of my body and instinctively my hand drifted to once again fist in his hair, pulling him further into me.

His hands fell towards the hem of my skinny jeans, popping the button from its hole as my center started to throb in need. Next came the zipper, whose sound mixed with our heavy breathing to produce the most intoxicating melody. It consumed me along with the guttural growl Damon released immediately afterwards and before I knew it, he was ripping my jeans straight down my slender legs, stating, "After you ride me until the sun comes up, I have another ride in mind," as he did.

"Convertible or motorcycle and do I get to know where were going first?" I asked as his fingertips skimmed the inner surface of my thighs, shooting another shot of straight up lust towards the apex. Honestly, I was amazed that I was capable of having this conversation amidst the wonders Damon's lips and hands were working on my body. Apparently, he'd been right earlier in his teasing. I'd learned something from him along the way when it came to sex. I could multi-task like a champ now and still feel every sensation he sent hurtling through my body.

"Motorcycle," he answered, peeling my panties from around my waist and tossing them onto the floor. "And we can go anywhere your little heart desires because you are driving."

He dipped a digit into my heat just as his last words escaped. The world rotated a bit on its axis as he started slipping it in and out of my core, hitting marvelous spots that had spider webs developing over the last week. The man was a god when it came to those fingers and the waves of euphoria they brought out in me and somewhere in the back of my mind; I knew what he was doing. Distracting me with delicious aches was the perfect way of easing his new mission onto me.

And damnit if it wasn't working. At the moment, I'd do anything to keep his fingers slipping along my inner walls the way they were, evoking sinful moans while his thumb spiraled against my clit. Apparently, I wasn't the great multi-tasker I'd just suggested I was.

"Is there any point in arguing with you on this?" I finally managed to get out. It was breathy, perfect representation of the vast expanse of air I was about to fall through when he launched me towards cloud 9.

"Nope," he replied, popping the p and making me envious. I was so close to popping, only a few more strokes and I'd hit my launch site. But just as I felt my toes start to curl and my breath hitch in my throat, he pulled out his finger. I groaned, releasing the ache from my body out through my mouth.

Damon's smug smirk was plastered on his face and as his finger ran its way along the center crease of my stomach, he purred, "Because I'm pretty sure you already know what I'm going to say."

"Just enjoy the ride," I deadpanned. He had me right where he wanted me. How was it possible that I'd held so much power this morning and now here I was, hanging on his every move? "And let me tell you, I certainly intend to as soon as you let me finish. Well, this one at least."

He lifted himself from the bed, chuckling as he opened the drawer of his side table to pull out a condom. It was captured between his teeth as his shirt lifted over his head and his jeans fell to the floor, freeing his erection. "Don't worry; the second one will be just as thrilling."

No boxer briefs. Well that was certainly something I approved of. "It's got some stiff competition," I remarked, wiggling my brows at the clever pun I'd somehow managed to devise amidst my sexual appetite.

He laughed again, slipping the rubber onto his shaft as he did, before leaning over my naked body on the bed. A hand was on each side of my waist as his erection poked the base of my belly. So damn close to where I craved it to be. "Did I mention how much I've missed you?" he questioned softly, enveloping me in the velvety tone of his voice.

"Yeah, but it doesn't hurt hearing it again," I replied almost sheepishly. His eyes were dark, nearly black, as they gazed upon me and I felt my heart tug. It wasn't just my core throbbing for this man, but my heart was literally thumping in my chest, eager to re-connect with him.

His eyes sparked at my comment, or maybe it was the waves of yearning rolling off of me, but instead of uniting our hips, he executed a powerful level of control and leaned forward to press his lips against mine.

The kiss was sweet, tender despite the carnal look of his eyes before he whispered, "I've missed you." His lips then connected with the delicate skin just below my jawline when he repeated, "I've missed you." Goosebumps started to spread over my skin as his tongue ran its way to the sweet spot of my neck. And after a few scolding swirls, he murmured one last time, "I've missed you."

Each one had been distinct, lifting me to a new level and testing my control which was stretching beyond its limits. A smile permeated my face as giggles escaped my throat and to my relief, Damon's hands finally drifted to grip onto my hips.

His tip played with my entrance, preparing me for the main event, when I finally managed to find my voice again. "I take it your hangover won't be an issue with this. No headache?" I goaded.

Damon shot me a lopsided smile and assured, "Darling, my head cleared as soon you stepped foot back into my room."

The meaning behind his words soaked in while his eyes sparkled, piercing that enticing blue into mine. The intensity behind them reminded me of a similar instance in his bar where the connection I'd felt had been too powerful to embrace. I'd coiled away before, eager for anything besides that bond or the feeling that he was seeing past my walls, but this time I didn't stray. Not after being separated from him, not after finally coming clean about why I'd been holding him at a distance and especially not after removing Stefan from the picture.

It didn't matter if Damon's gaze captured mine because I was bare either way at this point. He had all of my truths. Understood all of me. I just needed to be strong enough to accept it.

So my eyes remained fixed on his, plunging into the depths of whatever the hell was happening between us as he entered me to the hilt, finally finalizing our fusion and successfully claiming what was undoubtedly his.

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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**A/N****: This scene was actually just supposed to be about 1/3 of this chapter, but in typical Damon & Elena fashion, they kind of stole all of my attention. A lot was said between them that had been building up over the course of this fic and every bit was important. So this chapter just ended up being fluffy. I take it, you guys didn't really mind did you?**

**That being said, the next chapter will have the plot points I'd original wanted to incorporate into the second half of this one. And let me just admit… we'll be shaking things up a bit in Mystic Falls. *insert appropriate evil cackle here***


	21. Chapter 21

**So I know I keep saying this, but guys, I'm really sorry for how long it took me to get this chapter posted again. It's summertime so life is crazy to begin with, plus, my immune system is terrible and I keep getting sick. However, this story WILL get finished. I will not leave it hanging, especially when we're getting so close to the end. **

**Also, huge, and I mean gigantic, thanks for all of the reviews. I've been super sucky with replying to all of them, but they seriously mean so much to read. You guys sure know how to show the love and I'm extremely grateful. **

**And last but not least, I just wanted to give you the warning that Damon's not in this chapter too much. I tried to throw him in as often as I could, but the last chapter was about our duo and it was time to deal with another issue in this story. Next chapter, we'll get back to them. Pinky promise!**

_**Hope you guys like the chapter.**_

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><p>My first riding session extended far past the first breaks of morning rays and my second, late into the afternoon. I'd initially intended to head back and check on Jenna before Damon taught me how to ride his motorcycle, but in typical fashion, my time just seemed to blur when he was around.<p>

Learning the ins and outs of his bike was tricky at first, but after a few false starts that highly resembled a scene from my favorite romantic comedy, I'd grasped the arduous task of shifting gears and accelerating from neutral without throwing Damon off of the back. My initial fear, over controlling a hunk of metal that could easily send us toppling to the asphalt below if I didn't maintain our balance, had dissipated when I twisted the accelerator and shot us forward, blasting our faces with the muggy summer air.

It was then - whizzing 40mph down Interstate 41- that I realized exactly why Damon loved his bike. The combination of control and freedom, offered unmatched exhilaration. It didn't matter if we were lacking four protective walls because Damon's hands cradled my waist, offering the perfect level of security amidst our endless surroundings without interfering in my driving. He trusted me with his bike, he trusted the location I'd chosen for us to head, and he trusted my instincts. Plain and simple, he trusted me. I relished in that trust and newfound ability to control such a powerful machine and insisted on driving all day.

He didn't argue as I led us to the river where we'd made love and to see the progress he'd made on his bar. Instead, it was I that had the nagging urge to disapprove when I pulled up in his driveway and realized it was time to see how Jenna's conversation with Alaric had gone.

"I'll still be here tomorrow," Damon reminded, trapping a strand of hair behind my right ear.

"That eager to get rid of me?" I goaded before pushing my lips into a dramatic pout. "You're supposed to be tempting me with irresistible offers on why I should stay."

He shook his head from side to side, sporting an amused smirk on his lips, and teased, "It's too easy right now. I much prefer a challenge."

I smacked him across the shoulder at the dig, resulting in a chuckle on his part before the humor slipped from his features. "Besides, just because our talk went well this morning doesn't necessarily mean theirs did."

"Do you really think he'd leave her?" I questioned. Damon knew Alaric better than almost anyone and the sudden drop in our tone had me feeling wary over his answer.

"No, but I'm sure the news is gonna be a shocker for him and I'm not sure how well he'll handle that," he replied, letting his hand slip down and latch onto my waist. His head had just cocked to the side, when he added, "However, he hasn't shown up asking me to break out the hard liquor yet. That's gotta be a positive sign right?"

I rolled my eyes at the truth behind his words as my mind drifted to the way I'd found Damon last night. The scent of bourbon had scorched my lungs and clarified that he'd had a rough night, or maybe even a rough past few days. I hadn't asked him about any destructive effects my words from days before had caused, in fear of spoiling the solace we'd found ourselves back in. But now it was all I could think of.

Instead of releasing those personal questions into the air, I dropped my head to rest against his chest and generally observed, "Why can't alcohol ever relate to something positive?"

His lips brushed against my hairline before he replied, "It does sometimes. Your past just prevents you from seeing it."

I was only offered a moment for his words to infiltrate my thoughts before Damon gripped onto my cheeks and lifted my head from his chest. All I could see now were those impossibly blue eyes and the smile lines that appeared at the edges.

He inched forward, offering me a toe-curling kiss to stamp the end of our reconnection day, and ordered, "Now get out of here and see your aunt."

I nodded, accepting it was time to re-enter reality and whatever it had in store for my family. Just as I swung open my car door, I turned around and stated cheekily, "Thanks for the rides, Damon."

After a quick flick of his brows, his lopsided grin fell onto his lips and he purred, "It's _always_ my pleasure."

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><p>My heart soared when I pulled into the driveway and saw Alaric's car parked against the curb out front. He was still here. That was definitely a positive sign. But that relief lasted a brief twenty seconds when I reached the walkway and the front door swung open.<p>

"I just need some time to think," Ric asserted, not noticing my presence only a few feet away.

I couldn't see inside the door nor Jenna's reaction, but I'm sure it wasn't good. Ric shut the door behind him and swung around to face me.

His expression fell even more at the sight of me and with his head dipped towards the concrete walkway; he maneuvered past me and towards his awaiting vehicle. "I'm sorry for whatever you heard, Elena."

"You can't leave her!" I pleaded, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. It'd been an automatic response on my part as dread swept through me. This man and I were all Jenna had. If he left now and I left for school, she'd have no one at all.

A moment passed as I watched his shoulders rise and fall along with his deep breath before he finally turned around. "I'm just taking some time at my apartment," he reasoned. The havoc of the morning was present on every stretch of his skin, leaving him seemingly exhausted. "I'm not leaving for good."

"But time isn't what she needs," I insisted, thinking of the correlation between me leaving Damon and his festering thoughts after my rejection and Ric doing the same with Jenna. Thoughts of how he'd possibly handled my absence were still weighing heavily on my mind and I didn't want that same possibility for Jenna. "You can't leave her alone with this, Ric. She's already scared out of her mind and she needs _you_."

"But I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do here, Elena. I won't be able to say the right things," he shouted in frustration, hands lifted into the air. It was the first time I'd ever been the target of Ric's hostility, but there was no way in hell I was backing down that easily. Not when I was the only one left standing in for Jenna's defenses.

Frankly, I was finished with people abandoning us. Finished with our family dwindling into nothing.

"You know exactly what you're supposed to do," I refuted, throwing my hand behind me to point at the doorway he'd exited just moments ago. "You're supposed to go back in and support her."

"I'm not supposed to be a father. Not yet, anyway," he released, before the wind in his sails deflated. His shoulders seemed to sag and his eyes only made contact with the concrete walkway as he added, "I'd probably do a terrible job at it."

The root behind the reason he was leaving dripped over his face, shadowing every bit of life in his features with insecurities. He was terrified. There was no doubt about it, but just like with Jenna, I saw faith in him that he didn't. "I doubt that."

He laughed, bitter and cold, before his eyes finally drifted up to latch onto mine. "You're going to have to forgive my honesty here, but you don't really know anything about me," he disputed. "We've said a total of what – 20 sentences to each other all summer?"

There was another first. Maybe the events of the morning and the news of his unborn child had finally given my, hopefully still, soon-to-be uncle in law the courage to stand up and tell it to me straight. All summer he'd cowered away from me and all serious topics, and I'd simply avoided them. It worked for us up until this point, but not anymore. Not when our family was growing and not when he needed a push of confidence from a seemingly unlikely source. It was downright ironic that I was going to be the one assuring him that my family was where he belonged.

"I know," I conceded, acknowledging the truth behind his previous words. "I haven't exactly given you the opening for us to get to know each other. But I know more than you think, Ric."

"Is that so?" he questioned, sarcasm dripping in his words and streaming from his narrowed eyes.

"I know what you did for Damon," I admitted softly, understanding that I was breaching territory I wasn't even sure I was allowed to know about. So I shrugged my shoulders and corrected, "Well, at least I know the gist of what you did for him."

Ric appeared momentarily taken aback by the direction I'd chosen to move our conversation before he shook his head dejectedly. "And what does that have to do with raising a kid?"

I slowly took a seat on the porch steps in hopes Ric would take the hint and join me. It seemed less likely for him to bolt if we both shared the same space, and maybe even a little more inviting for him to continue talking. Then I explained, "Helping him work through everything took patience, compassion, maybe even a little love." His eyes were still narrowed in my direction and he hadn't made a move to join me on the steps when I suggested, "All those things are going to help you become one hell of a father."

Ric studied me then, stretching our silence into an uncomfortable span of time. He seemed to be searching for something on my face, perhaps a tell-tale sign that I was simply shooting out supportive lies for my aunt's benefit. When he found none, he finally released a sigh and sauntered over to take his spot next to me on the top stair.

He didn't speak again for another few seconds and I feared tears might start streaming down his cheeks the way they had with my aunt. I could handle this new supportive role, but that took it to a whole new level.

"But that was different," he eventually released, along with another sigh. "I don't know the first thing about raising a kid."

"Either does Jenna," I threw out, only to immediately regret it.

I'd only tried to point out that they were both exactly in the same boat here, but the terror in Ric's eyes had me backtracking immediately. "Alright, maybe not the best thing to point out. But like I told her, it's gonna be a learn-as-you-go process. One you're both going to have to work through, together. That's the only way it's going to work."

His eyes flickered towards the walkway uncomfortably before they flipped back up to mine. "I'm sure you've picked up on this, but I'm kind of awkward when it comes to being around children."

He had one hell of a point there and I couldn't resist the laugh that escaped from my throat. Since the start of summer, he'd tip-toed around me, eager to steer clear of my presence in the household. When luck – or lack thereof - found us in the same proximity, he'd mumbled and spat out random slurs of words that could hardly pass as sentences. The guy clearly didn't know how to handle youth, but then again, part of that had been my fault from the start.

"First off, I'm not a child, Ric," I scolded, adhering a smile on my lips to keep him feeling comfortable. "And secondly, the man-hater in me didn't make it easy for you to feel comfortable around me in the first place."

Blood flooded his cheeks at the mention of the girl I'd previously been, making me curious over what he'd possibly said about me to Damon in privacy. But before I could dwell too much on their personal discussion and how involved I was in them, Ric dipped his head and let out a small chuckle at my own personal crack.

Well, at least he felt comfortable now. It was precisely the opening I needed to drive my original point home. "But the reason I didn't make it easy on you is because I'm fiercely protective of my aunt. And when it comes to her and the guys in her life, I can be pretty blunt in my opinions. That being said, you're perfect for her. You light up her world when you step into the room and she relaxes whenever you're around."

The previous defenses he'd been building at the start of my protection speech faded at my praise as I played on the love I knew he held for my aunt. "She needs you now, more than ever and I know the last thing you really want to do is leave her with her own insecurities over this."

He closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath before he reasoned, "But I just need a night or two to work through _my_ own insecurities."

"Then work through them together," I insisted, resisting the urge to raise my voice. Getting Ric to see my point almost felt as futile as speaking to a brick wall. "It's only going to make matters worse if you leave her now thinking you're steps away from walking out on her for good."

"Trust me on this, I know," I snorted, once again seeing the similarities between this dilemma and the one I'd shared with Damon a few days prior. A simple discussion was all that was needed to hash out our issues. It was so easy, terrifying to enter, but easy once it'd been started and I just wanted Ric to understand that. Unfortunately, elaborating on the inner-workings of Damon and my relationship wasn't really a card I intended on whipping out further.

But I didn't need to. Ric already understood exactly what I was saying without the elaboration.

"You know, he's a lot stronger than you give him credit for," he declared, catching me off guard and opening my eyes to exactly how much influence Ric had on Damon. My boyfriend had used that exact line when defending me against Bonnie at Jerry's Pub. Just earlier this morning, Damon had insisted he was going off of the fly when it came to me, but I couldn't help but wonder how many of his actions and phrases had originally come from Ric.

If that were the case, I had even more reason to believe Ric had the potential to be a great father.

"Yeah, I'm coming to find out I am too, apparently," I replied, causing Ric's eyes to narrow and confusion lines to appear across his forehead. "You want to why I know that?"

"Sure," he agreed, a weary set to his jaw.

I shot him a small smile, amazed that we'd gotten to this point where I felt comfortable enough to share my personal downfalls and accomplishments, and answered, "Because he's using the tactics you used on him with me."

Thankfully, Ric knew better than to focus on my part in all of this and instead solely on the truth I was giving and the meaning behind it. "Wow," he stated, shock lifting his brows as he leaned back slightly. "He really_ has_ come a long way since that first day I met him."

"You did a good job there, Ric," I commended. "You took the time to make him feel meaningful again when it was impossible. And that's how I know you're ready for this. Once you tackle the impossible, everything else is cake."

He scoffed at my positivity, and retorted, "I seriously doubt that."

"Alright," I conceded with a cock of my head, "well then everything else is manageable."

"Sounds more suitable," he agreed.

We laughed in unison and for the first time since I'd met the guy, I felt comfortable in his presence. We were having a meaningful conversation, one that made me realize exactly how melancholy I'd feel if he truly left my aunt. It didn't just have to do with the devastation it would cause her, either. I'd miss him if he suddenly disappeared from my life. We hadn't even spent the time getting to know much detail about the other, but from Damon's stories and this tiny shared moment, I knew enough about the man beside me to understand neither my aunt nor myself would feel as complete without him around.

"The past few days for him weren't as bad as you might think," Ric stated, pulling me out of my reverie. We'd been sitting in suitable silence for the past few minutes and up until that point, I'd resisted every longing to bombard Ric with my questions about Damon. The man knew him so well, had been there when I hadn't over the past few days, but it hadn't felt right letting my curiosity overshine the true purpose behind our conversation.

However, I simply couldn't resist the opportunity for information this time. So I turned to face him and asked, "Really?"

"Yeah," he answered, nodding in emphasis. "He just had a few drinks, that's all. He didn't fall too hard. He didn't do anything stupid."

The answer had been vague, but offered just enough to reassure me that Damon had been just fine. He hadn't completely fallen into a pit of self-loathing over his past and I hadn't reversed the effects Ric had spent months creating. So I let Ric's answer remain at that and responded, "That's good to hear."

"But just know that in the end," he reasoned, "despite the lying, he's really just trying to do right by you."

Now, that was something I already knew and I was trying my damndest to reciprocate the same in return. It was also something I knew stood true for my aunt and the man sitting beside me.

With a nudge of my shoulder against his, I said, "And despite storming out of the house, you really just want to do right by Jenna. Otherwise you wouldn't have asked her to marry you in the first place."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head from side to side. "Point well made."

"But otherwise useless unless you act on it," I pressed, cocking my head to the side and shooting him a dazzling smile.

"Fine, I'm going," he muttered, adding another eye roll before lifting himself from the step. His hand had just extended to the doorknob when he turned around and noted, "But Elena, this was nice."

Never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed that hearing a line like that from one of my aunt's boyfriend's would have produced the smile on my lips that it did. Nor would I have guessed I'd feel as proud over making it happen. But I did and it made me even more satisfied over the fact that Ric had been the one to find my aunt after her train wreck with Logan Skumfell. We were going to be a better family with him, and eventually their new addition, included.

So I smiled back at him, closed my eyes to relish the implausible reality behind this moment a second longer, before I reopened them and agreed, "Yeah, it was."

He re-entered the house, leaving me alone on the front porch with the astonishment over what had just happened. I sat there a few seconds, just reveling in the closeness I felt with a man I'd initially marked with a giant red X, and it hit me that I'd been the one to successfully drive him back to my aunt. They were confronting their issues and working through their insecurities because of me.

Which meant, there was no place for me inside of that house at the current moment. This was their time, they needed their space, and I had options of where I could spend my night. Caroline and Bonnie's names sounded in the back of my mind when I shook them off. There was only one place I really wanted to be.

With a quick swipe, I grabbed my cell from my pocket and dialed the number. It only rang once before I questioned, "Where are you and what are you doing?"

"Bar and installing light fixtures to the bathroom," Damon replied, his voice echoing off the walls in the dusty building I'd visited earlier that morning. "Did things go well?"

"Hopefully they'll be better now. Want some company?" I asked, feeling that all familiar smile pull at the corners of my lips at the sound of his voice. "My night just freed up."

There was a hard clank on his end of the line before he declared, "Well look at that, so did mine."

My head shook through the air as a giggle slipped through my teeth. "You know, sometimes you make it too easy," I teased, repeating the very words he'd used on me in his bedroom that morning. "I much prefer a challenge."

"I guess I'll have to see what I can do about that then," he threatened, voice low and seductive, exactly the way I preferred it.

"So, meet you at your house in twenty?" I asked, disregarding his threat. He and I both knew I was sure to enjoy whatever challenge he had in store, anyway. There was no need to waste time make witty comments over it now.

"Yeah, that works," he agreed, feeding into my own excitement, before he hung up the line.

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><p>Two days later, I stood in my bedroom, mulling over which necklace matched the violet hues of my tank top. Jenna and Ric, who, thanks to my vital role, had decided to work through their baby drama together, were downstairs sifting through stacks of bills, receipts and everything finances. Their main goal today was to cut as many unnecessary wedding costs in order to save each and every penny they could to give their future kid what it needed. Since the wedding was only two days away, they were cutting it pretty close, filling the house with a frantic vibe.<p>

However, as I studied my necklaces, their wedding - for the first time in 24 hours - had actually been pushed towards the back of my thoughts. In its place stood the day directly after and the red circle on my calendar signifying it as my departure date back to Richmond.

Initially, driving into this small town, I'd felt the weight of resistance and dreaded nostalgia. I hadn't wanted to be back and I'd counted down the days until I could finally leave this place and the memories it sent twisting through my mind. But now, as I studied the mark, I felt that same dread. It wasn't laced in nostalgia, but still held the same resistance I'd felt arriving here.

The truth swam through me, swift and shocking. I didn't want to leave.

There were a lot of reasons behind my conflicting emotions, but the primary cause behind my change of heart about this town had my eyes drifting to the left. They shot open at what they fell on. I'd been so preoccupied in my newly re-kindled relationship with Damon, the wedding, and all things baby, that I hadn't even realized which day we'd approached.

But there it was, in all of its foreboding gloom – my tiny blue circle.

I gazed at it for a moment, waiting for the inevitable wave of responsibility over what I had to do wash through me. But nothing came. It was then I narrowed my eyes, willing it to tempt me so I could resist.

Things were fantastic between us now; not saying that'd ever been a reason not to break things off in my relationships in the past, but it was different with Damon. I wasn't ready to end things nor was I ready to let him go. That didn't necessarily mean I'd be able to resist that break-up when the larger red circle marking my departure back to college came into play, but for now, I could hold it off.

In the back of my mind, I realized this was my final step in my transformation. This cut-off date was the only rule I'd left unbroken with Damon. It symbolized where I'd been and where he'd pushed me to wind up and without hesitation, I laughed at the mark - an arrogant, self-righteous laugh.

Looking at it now, I saw it for what it was – a measly mark. Pointless. Powerless. It no longer defined who I was nor did the past I'd carried with me because I'd broken free. For the first time in years, I didn't feel restricted to a time-limit. It'd only been established to keep my boyfriends from becoming too invested in the details of my life anyway. Damon and I had already passed that and lapped it twenty times on the track a long time ago. So, to buy into the rule simply for the sake of it being there seemed ridiculous.

I laughed again, halfway tempted to start shimming my hips in a victory dance, when I thought of my aunt and her premonition that Damon would ultimately be the one who'd shatter my 3 month rule. At the time, I'd brushed it off, finding the notion impossible, and now here I was, standing in my bedroom shooting the date smug looks of defiance.

Damon and I were going to pass the date. There was no doubt in my mind that I'd wake up by his side tomorrow morning, still blissful and heart racing at the sight of his sleepy eyes. It's where I wanted to be and there was no way a tiny circle couldn't deviate me from that.

Feeling satisfied in my decision, I plucked a violet pendant from my array of necklaces and fastened it around my neck, eager to forget both circles on my calendar, just as my phone started to buzz on my bed.

When I picked up, Bonnie answered the other line.

"Do you know where your boyfriend is right now?" she asked quietly, much too low, which had my nerves alighting instantly. It wasn't like her to be so hushed, and even more unlike her to speak in questions. Normally, she was a get-right-down-to-the-point type of girl.

"At the bar," I answered hesitantly, not feeling comfortable as to where this impromptu phone call could be headed. "I'm heading over there in an hour to help him out."

"Yeah, by the way things look, he might not be there in an hour," she replied.

"What the hell are you talking about, Bonnie?" I asked impatiently, ready to bypass this over-dramatic question and answer portion of the call and get straight to why she'd dialed my number in the first place.

She sighed at my irritation, and explained, "I was doing some shopping and when I walked past the square…" But she cut off and ordered, "Actually, just take a look at the picture I just sent you."

Pulling the phone away from my ear, I clicked on the message icon waiting for me. When it popped open, a picture of Damon sitting outside of the _Pasta Shack_ filled my screen. I studied it for a second, particularly the woman sitting beside him at the table and felt my mouth go slack.

She was gorgeous, long and slender, with ringlets twisting down her back. The way the sunlight hit her made those locks shine like chocolate diamonds as they intricately wove together and her skin appear as smooth as the surface of a pearl. The girl was stunning, downright stunning. But her appearance wasn't what had my mouth gaping open and my stomach twisting in knots. Those reactions had everything to do with the way Damon's hand extended, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand.

My head twisted violently through the air as jealousy and paranoia threatened to boil over.

It had to be a mistake, or a misunderstanding. Damon didn't have a sister, but he had friends. Maybe it was simply an old acquaintance he'd met on his 'rebel road trip' across the country. I mean, it wasn't like he was kissing her, so I had no right to make assumptions. Besides, I absolutely refused to be that girl that let the ache in her chest over-rule all rational thinking. I could handle this like an adult, sensibly and without the melodramatics.

"Elena!" Bonnie shouted over the phone, it was muffled and immediately, I switched the phone to speaker.

"This doesn't say anything, Bonnie," I rationalized. "And what are you doing spying on Damon anyway?"

"I told you I was shopping. It wasn't like I purposely started my day with the mission of catching Damon and this bitch sharing an intimate lunch together," she justified with a scoff. "Give me more credit than that."

"You're right," I tried to interject, but she kept on going and the next words out of her mouth were like a slap across the face. The absolute worst identifier behind Damon's mystery woman came from Bonnie's end of the line.

"But, Elena, it's a good thing I found them because he called her Katherine."

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><p><strong>Dun, Dun, Dun. <strong>

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	22. Chapter 22

**THANK YOU to all of you still sticking with me and leaving such wonderful reviews. I, no joke, re-read them quite often for inspiration when I hit writer's block. So, THANK YOU for helping me work through that too.**

**This chapter has a heck of a lot going on. We're seriously racing from one plot point to the next, so buckle up and get those reading glasses on!**

_**Hope you all like the chapter!**_

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><p><em>There was certainly fascination there that made me do things I'm not proud of.<em>

Damon's words when describing Katherine and her influence over him echoed in my mind as I flipped through various photos of them together on Bonnie's phone. None were as intimate or suggestive as the one where his hand cupped her cheek, but like a car crash, I couldn't pull my eyes from the scene. I knew the destruction the photos were causing, knew what they were doing to my heart, but I was powerless against them.

Sort of like how Damon seemed powerless when it came to Katherine.

My eyes kept running along her skyscraper legs, pinched tight waist, and the sultry set of her eyes. The blood red dress she wore hugged those curves of hers to perfection and the stilettoes on her feet easily added a few inches to her olive-toned calves. Plus, her wide eyes, pointed solely towards Damon, were framed in a heavy set of lashes that seemed to pop right from the screen.

Damnit, the girl screamed sex, temptation, every boy's fantasy, and she was launching all of her goods in my boyfriend's direction. Unfortunately, the distance from which Bonnie had taken the photos left it difficult to tell whether Damon was buying into that inducement.

In reality, all I had were my wicked thoughts and a few photographs of them eating lunch together. Only one picture had them touching, but as I continued to glare at the shifting photos, the green monster of jealousy clawed within me, threatening to over-rule all rational thinking I'd been so desperately trying to keep within my grasps.

Plain and simple, the problem was Katherine and the fact that I now had an image to align with the already developed stereotype of bitch I'd established for her inside of my head. Currently, I wanted nothing more than to reach through my best friend's phone, grab the tramp by the strands of her hair, and smash her face against the concrete. Yeah, it was that bad.

"It might not be as bad as you think," Bonnie shouted from her closet. We'd been here for twenty minutes, circling over the same arguments and rationalizations, but were still left at square one. She was getting ready for a date she had in an hour and I was groaning and deciding if I still wanted to make an appearance at mine.

"Well I'd hope not. Because the thoughts in my head right now are pretty damn bad," I muttered, sliding my finger to the left of the screen to pull up another image. "But have you seen her, like really focused on her, because I can't see an outcome where her showing up doesn't result in something bad."

"So what?" Bonnie argued with nonchalance as she stepped out of the closet dangling a neon yellow pencil skirt and white tank top. I shook my head dejectedly before she stepped back into the closet and continued, "She wears mini-dresses that cut off her circulation and make her look like a hoe. She screams desperation, honey. So trust me when I say that bitch has nothing on you."

Leave it to Bonnie to point out the most obvious and crucial points to sway a situation in my favor. Confidence swept through me as I laughed and declared, "You're the best friend a girl could ask for. You know that, right?"

"And don't you forget it," she ordered with a giggle of her own, stepping out this time with a zebra print dress that appeared to extend just past the curves of her ass. I shook my head again at the tacky fabric resulting in an eye roll on her end before she disappeared back through the door.

"But I do have to ask, when did you and Caroline switch bodies?" I questioned once my eyes had returned to the bright screen in my hands. Since I'd arrived, she'd done nothing but make excuses for Damon's impromptu lunch with his ex. Could I even call her his ex? Jesus, I didn't know.

"I mean, you sent me those photos for a reason and now when I come to complain about them, you've done nothing but stick up for Damon. You're supposed to hate him remember," I observed, scowling at the brunette beauty on Bonnie's phone.

"I sent you those pics because I'd expect the same from you. You're my best friend and you deserve to know everything that's going on when you're not around," she replied before stepping from the closet once again. This time there was no clothing option dangling on a hanger between her fingers, just a fierce determination ablaze behind her cinnamon orbs. "But you're right, I've stuck up for Damon because he's said some things that make me feel like he's a halfway decent guy. One who wouldn't cheat on you with that skank."

My eyes furrowed, pushing the skin of my forehead together. If the things Damon said had resulted in Bonnie's judgmental walls crumbling, then the words had to be important. "What kinds of things?"

She cocked her head to the side and wore a sly grin on her lips. "Oh, Elena, curiosity killed the cat, you know."

Her finger sashayed back and forth through the air, taunting me, when I scowled, "Shut it and spill."

"It's nothing too serious," she started, flipping a curl of jet black hair behind her shoulder in nonchalance, "but when we were at Jerry's Pub, he just said you're the type of a girl that people can't help but fall in love with. That you're strong and endearing and wrap people right into your spell."

I gawked at her, finding my confidence once again rebuilding itself, this time from Damon's explanation of me. Sometimes it was downright unbelievable how much the guy understood my strengths, weaknesses, and moves.

"Now, _that_ I already knew," she continued on, "but what surprised me was when he followed it up with the statement that he wasn't falling in love with _that _girl, but instead the one he was just getting to see. The _real_ one. And yeah, I can be a cold bitch sometimes, but there was sincerity there that's kind of hard to overlook. Even when you're me."

The second half of her explanation behind her change of heart concerning Damon had faded into the background when her cell buzzed in my hands, redirecting my attention to the text message on the screen. What I saw left my mouth dangling open in disbelief.

"Elena?" she called out when I didn't respond to her words.

She was clearly frustrated at my silence. Maybe she'd said something important, but honestly I couldn't focus on her. All I could see was the text message from Elijah asking if it was safe for him to pick up Bonnie at her house in twenty minutes.

My vision jolted red and an explosion ignited within me, leaving me to sift through the chunks it left that made this hidden affair all the more likely.

My ex-boyfriend's face slipped into my mind as did the orange bra I'd found in his bed the day I'd finally ended things and stormed out of his dorm room. The way Bonnie had handled the news when I'd told her what he'd done – by brushing it off and insisting I move on instead of focusing on the girl he'd cheated on me with. The eagerness she'd expressed when finding me a replacement guy for the summer and the dates she'd withheld from Caroline and I all summer.

It wasn't like her to not elaborate on her sexscapades and I hadn't heard about a single one all fucking summer.

My fingers gripped into the phone, pushing until I was sure the plastic might crack under the pressure, when I lifted my narrowed eyes to the person I'd just referred to as 'the best friend a girl could ask for'. One who always wanted me to know what was going on. What a fucking joke.

"I can't believe I didn't see it," I whispered, cold and distant in my own thoughts. "You're the only one with the confidence to wear something as hideous as that orange bra." It hadn't been my most clever line, but I'd just been pummeled by my friend's deceit. It was the best I could come up with.

Bonnie's expression, which had previously been stretched in impatience, now shifted into lines of confusion. "What are you mumbling about?"

"This," I accused, pushing my arm and her phone towards her direction so she could get a clear look.

She stepped forward, lowering herself to the phone's level, only to shoot immediately upright. Her eyes were wide in terror, an emotion I'd never seen on her before, as she stuttered, "It's not… it's not what you think."

I laughed; the frosty, callous sound left my throat as I shot her a malicious smile. "So you didn't sleep with Elijah while I was still dating him? And you haven't been sleeping with him all summer?"

"I never meant for it to happen," she explained, regret pouring over her features as I verbally backed her into a corner. "I was drunk, Elena, you have to understand."

"What I understand is the respect that flows from one friend to another. Caroline and I have shown you that by not sleeping with any of the guys you've screwed in the past, which is kind of an accomplishment, considering you've slept with half of the east coast," I screamed. It was a low blow on my part, but damn did it feel good.

Bonnie wasted no more time before closing the delicate space between us and latching her fingers around my wrist. They constricted painfully around my skin in desperation, but I wasn't going to show her how much she could physically hurt me, not when her betrayal felt as thick as black tar in my stomach.

Since my parent's death I'd protected myself from new faces, and those with the potential to abuse my trust. Never, in a millions years, would I have guessed that abuse would come from someone I'd considered my best friend since grade school. But it had, and I felt sick at the thought. Apparently when it came to trust, it really just boiled down to the person you gave it out to, not the amount of time they'd appeared in your life.

"I'm sorry," she continued to plead as big salty tears streaked down her cheeks. "It was a big mistake that I tried to forget, but he just kept calling. And well, I really like him, Elena. I have no idea how it happened, but I do." Her words had come out rushed and there was encouragement in her eyes that begged for me to latch on to.

And as much as I wanted to, I couldn't deny how significant this achievement was for Bonnie. She'd gone her entire life jumping from one guy's bed straight to the next because of the heartless move her father had pulled. Now, she'd finally found the one that slowed her world down enough to stand steady with, to see on a regular basis, but the problem was the guy she'd chosen and the time that romance had started. And frankly, that shadowed everything special about that moment for me.

"That's great for you, but you could have slept with anyone. You should have stopped seeing him because you knew it was wrong or at least had the decency to tell me," I argued before the adrenaline of the moment shot my hand from her grip and I landed on my feet. "Damnit, Bonnie, he was my boyfriend!"

"But you didn't care about him. You didn't care about _any of them_ until Damon showed up," she argued in a pitch high enough to shatter glass. "Why can't you just be happy that we both found guys?"

"Because it's not about the guy," I shouted, feeling rage flow through all of my limbs and shake my body. I didn't give a shit about Elijah, hadn't since that day I'd stormed out of his room. I did; however, feel a bit bitter over the fact that Bonnie now reaped the benefits of the lessons I'd given Elijah while we were together.

The thought of Bonnie's skin on his so close to an occasion where mine had been, sent a tremble through my limbs. It made its way to my head as it slashed back and forth and I screamed, "It's about you and the fact that you went all summer without telling me. You were supposed to be my best friend."

"And I still am," she insisted before lowering her voice and revealing just how raw our interaction had left her. "Please, you _have_ to forgive me."

The demanding term of 'forgive' repeated in my mind as did all of the ways it seemed to infiltrate my life. Damon insisted I needed to forgive Stefan, Damon had obviously forgiven Katherine, I'd forgiven Caroline for keeping truths and now I was being asked to forgive Bonnie for doing the same. All of the instances were like intersecting lines, weaving in similarity throughout each other.

And then a revelation hit me, like a wrecking ball I certainly hadn't been prepared for. The impact shifted the lines, separated them into sections: ones that pointed out the differences between those who deserved forgiveness and those that simply expected it.

Katherine and Bonnie were the type of people that took what they wanted, without thinking of consequences, and usually walked off scotch free. Katherine had and now Bonnie assumed that since I'd moved on from Elijah, we'd jump right over this hurtle and maintain our friendship. She'd hid the truth from me all summer for her own benefit. Caroline had hid Damon's truth for mine.

And then there was Stefan, the one whose forgiveness I never thought I'd be able to conjugate. But thinking about his and Katherine's similar situations gave me perspective, opened my eyes to the truth. Katherine had walked away from her accident; let Damon fall for the blame without batting an eyelash while Stefan owned up to his. He'd taken the fall, called me and accepted the punishment waiting for him because it was the moral move to make.

I still had no idea whether he felt guilty for his actions since I'd never given him the chance to own up to his downfalls, but now I could see the truth in blinding clarity. He'd simply been just a teenager who'd made a bad decision that was gonna haunt him for the rest of his life. And because of his choices afterwards, I knew that haunting was a definite.

As I looked at Bonnie, with her chest heaving and tears leaking from her eyes, I knew that although she expected my forgiveness, she didn't deserve it. Not the way Caroline had and not even the way Stefan did. It's why I hated Katherine so much and it's why I couldn't forgive the whimpering girl before me.

So I shook my head through the air, lit my eyes with the fire I felt within me, and denied, "No, I _don't_ have to and I won't. You fucked up and now you get to live with it."

Her mouth dangled open at the directness of my heated words and without further ado, I declared, "Thank you for opening my eyes to the truth," and walked straight of her room.

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><p>Thoughts of my over-reaction the first time I'd been side-blasted by a friend and then by Damon were fresh on my mind. I hadn't handled Damon's truth about his past properly after Caroline's school news and decided it best not to meet Damon immediately after facing off with Bonnie. My thoughts were too frantic right now, my heart was too beaten.<p>

All it'd taken was a simple text saying I'd be an hour or so late to the bar. It left him longer with Katherine if he chose, but it left me with crucial time necessary to calm down before confronting her reappearance into his life.

That resulted in my station at Caroline's where I'd briefed her about Bonnie, Katherine and all of their skanky behavior. After an hour of slewing obscenities attached to both women's names, the ache in my chest over Bonnie's betrayal had finally started to weaken. Caroline, being the girl she was, also threw out wicked comments of her own for support along with reassuring words about how to confront Damon.

"This is why I need you next year," I groaned, rolling over on her bed so I could face the blonde. My tummy pressed into her comforter and my head rested in my palms. "Now I'm truly heading back alone."

"I'd never leave you alone. You'll have me by phone," she claimed, sweeping her arm over my back to rest her head on my shoulder. She was extremely close to my face, but there was an understanding and ease between us that didn't make it uncomfortable. She was my best friend after all, the only one I had left. "And you forget, you've been working towards this all summer."

"Working towards what?" I questioned, knitting my brows on my forehead.

"The ability to open up to new people," she replied before flipping her brows expectantly towards the ceiling. "Maybe heading back alone is exactly what you need. Now you don't have a life raft when testing out your success."

"I see your point," I admitted, catching the side of my mouth between my teeth as I considered how well this girl understood me and what lay ahead. "However, I'd much prefer the life raft."

Tears hadn't surfaced once since I'd left Bonnie's house, but for the first time I felt them stinging my eyes, threatening to escape. And it had nothing to do with Bonnie's betrayal and instead the devotion coming from Caroline

Despite losing one friend today, I realized I still had this one, even if distance came between us. For that, I was lucky because as I studied her now, I realized she would do everything in her power to fill both her and Bonnie's roles in my life. And she'd probably succeed… eventually.

Caroline, noticing the liquid in my eyes tightened her arm around my back and pulled me into her. The tears didn't escape like I'd previously feared, but as she released a comforting, "It's gonna be okay," into the strands of my hair, I let my arms extend, wrapping around my life raft, as I held on for dear life.

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><p>I entered the doors of Damon's bar with a heavy heart, thankful for the air conditioning that had finally been installed a week prior. The insides had been refurbished: updated hardwood lined the floors, crafted multi-colored stone covered the walls, and recently purchased tables and chairs filled the previously vacant building.<p>

But as deceiving as the place looked, there was still a few weeks of work left before it was up and running. The occasional light fixture still needed to be installed, the bar still needed to be filled, and the pipes needed updating. Still, it was quite a sight considering the state of this place only a few months ago. Damon had certainly outdone himself.

He emerged from behind a wall that led to the - newly built - bathrooms wearing a black t-shirt and dark jeans. White dust clung to his clothes and midnight hair signifying he'd been working for a while. His face brightened when he noticed my presence and a smile slipped over his lips.

And before I knew it; my feet had me crossing the expanse of floor, desperate to reach him.

His arms wrapped around my back and my hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt as my head fell onto his chest. When I took a deep, calming breath, relief filled me along with his familiar scent. No traces of Katherine lingered on the fabric or his skin, only him. And for that, I was thankful. For right now, I just needed us.

In a world where everything continued to spiral rapidly, threatening to rip me down, he was my consolation – the one who settled the disarray. And despite the photos and Katherine looming inches in our future, I relished the feel of his body enveloping me. Here in his arms, I felt content. In this moment, there was nothing weighing me down. It was just our steady heartbeats, pulsing as one. Just him breathing for me, makings things easier and lessening the day's burdens instead of creating them.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern streaming through his lips, as his fingers swept through the chestnut strands of my hair.

"I had a rough morning with Bonnie," I answered with my eyes closed, releasing a deep breath against his chest. It hadn't been a lie; I'd merely left out the other factor that had me so drained. The one that involved him.

I still wasn't ready to leave the easiness of our current embrace, but Katherine was still looming in the future, stuffing me with anxious nerves. Damon and I needed to talk about her and I had to give him the opportunity to come clean on his own. It was the right move to make, the mature one that widened the possibility of a positive outcome.

So, I nuzzled my head further into his chest and savored the feel of his arms around me a second longer before pulling back. He was gazing down at me with lifted brows, probably eager for me to expand on my instance with Bonnie, when I switched the questioning onto him. "How was your day?"

Apprehension masked his features and his hands slid from my arms to rake through his hair. "Something happened today and I'm not sure how you're going to feel about it."

"Okay," I pressed, urging him on. A portion of me swelled at the truth waiting on the back of his tongue and another feared it.

He sighed at my urgency and rationalized, "You've had a rough morning so it might not be the best time to bring it up."

"I'm fine," I assured, wishing I felt as confident about that reassurance as my voice sounded. Honestly, my entire body was trembling in fear over where this conversation might lead us.

Damon studied me for a second, searching for the key giveaways that I wasn't ready for his truth. His eyes landed on my shaking hands before he took one in his, twisting his fingers through mine and, admitted hesitantly, "Katherine's in town."

His eyes bore into mine, waiting for a response, as I fought to keep my breathing steady. He'd been honest, like I'd hoped, which meant I needed to be honest with him.

"I know," I confessed, peering up at him with an apology slapped across my face. "Bonnie saw you two together this morning."

"Now I get why you're on edge," he responded bitterly, rolling his eyes momentarily beneath his lids, as his thumb swept contradictory soothing circles along the back of my hand. "I'm sure she wasted no time filling you in."

"It wasn't like that," I assured, deciding to focus on the issue at hand instead of filling him in on the other contributor behind my bad mood this morning. "She actually shot off reasons why it shouldn't look as bad as it did."

His brows shot towards the ceiling as he asked, "Looked?"

I shrugged and offered sheepishly, "She took pictures."

"Of course she did," he scoffed, with a vicious shake of his head.

"I told you that she rationalized it on your behalf," I defended, not really sure why I still felt the need to defend someone who'd betrayed me all summer, but figured it had something to do with keeping Damon's temper under control. We hadn't even approached the Katherine topic and the things I had waiting to fire off about her were more likely to piss him off than this.

"And she should have," he replied, lifting his hand to stroke the skin of my cheek. "You have nothing to worry about it when it comes to Katherine."

"Are you sure about that?" I questioned, leaning in to his touch and begging for his answer to be an absolute yes.

An encouraging smile tugged at the corner of his lips, before he lowered his face down to my level and said, "Look, she's just passing through town. She'll be here for a few days tops before she heads off to the next destination on her road trip to god knows where."

"But why did she stop here?" I inquired, desperate for more information about her impromptu visit. "Have you two kept in touch since you came back?"

"Not really," he answered, before cocking his head to the side and correcting, "I mean, yeah, occasionally, but I met a lot of people back in the day, Elena, and I've kept in contact with most of them. You know, in case I ever need a place to crash or something if I visit their town."

I rolled his reasoning a few times around in my head before settling on the fact that his logic made sense. And before I had a chance to respond, his left hand untangled from my fingers and landed on my other cheek as he proclaimed, "You really shouldn't be worried, Elena. Any feelings I had for her disappeared a long time ago. She's just here to say hey."

"That's not what I'm worried about," I answered honestly as my eyes landed on the hardwood floors. I'd known the second I walked into the bar that afternoon and saw his face light up that Damon's feelings were only directed towards me now. Katherine's sex appeal held no threat when it came to my boyfriend's heart.

However, she was still dangerous. She still had the capability of pulling him back into her web of manipulation when he'd worked so hard to walk away from it the first time. There were qualities about the way she lived her life and the road-trip she was on that held an offer Damon might end up falling for once I headed back to Richmond. And I didn't want that for him. Not after he'd finally settled into a decent town and life.

"Then why won't you look me in the eye when you say it?" Damon questioned, using his finger to tilt my chin up so my eyes came in contact with the topaz of his.

"I promise, I'm not worried about that," I guaranteed, using all of my will-power to keep my eyes from drifting back to the safety of the floor below. "I'm worried about the type of person she is and the influence she has over you."

He stared at me, incredulous. "What influence?"

I released a sigh, hating the fact that I was going to have to paint this entire thing out for him, and explained, "The one you told me she had over you that made you do things you weren't proud of."

"Elena, that was years ago," he secured with a chuckle. "There's no influence anymore."

"Are you absolutely positive?" I stressed, throwing the importance behind the chocolate of my eyes. "Because she's bad news, Damon. I mean, did she even apologize for letting you take the blame that night? Or was she all smiles and perky greetings when you met up with her earlier?"

"She didn't need to apologize," he reasoned, letting his hands fall from my face before he threw them through the air. "It's water under the bridge and we've both moved on."

"I'm sure it didn't take her nearly as long as it did you," I muttered under my breath.

His eyes widened at my words before narrowing into slits. Then his arms crossed over his chest and he accused, "Are you sure this is solely about her influence over me and not your insecurities here? Because the vibe I'm picking up is pointing me towards the latter."

"No!" I defended, knowing deep down in my heart that this wasn't a territorial issue. It was an issue over where Damon stood now and where he'd stood in the past and the drastic difference between the two. "I just don't want the temptation of her care-free, no consequence lifestyle sucking you back in."

"If I recall correctly, you're the one with the tendency to revert back to your past self, not me," he fired back, causing me to take a step away from him as my eyed popped open in shock.

His verbal whip stung as my heartfelt apology a few mornings ago played in my mind. I'd been completely honest with him about the reasons behind my actions for the first time, opened myself up for an opportunity to use my words against me, but I never thought he actually would.

Noticing the effects of his words, Damon stepped forward and reached for my arm. "God I'm sorry, Elena," he stated, regret shadowing his typically vivacious blue, as his head shook from side to side. "I didn't mean that. I'm just a little caught off guard here."

"I am too," I claimed, the burn from his words still in the process of fading, as he pulled me into his chest. "I just don't understand why you feel the need to defend her."

"I'm not defending her. I'm trying to get you to comprehend that she's not the terrible person you think she is," he argued as he pulled me back, away from his chest. His hands gripped onto my shoulders, almost willing his argument to seep in under the pressure as he explained, "She made a mistake, just like we did, and I'm sure she feels terrible about it."

Oh, I seriously doubted that. If she hadn't come to Mystic Falls to at least apologize to the person that saved her from facing jail time, then I'm sure the incident had been the furthest from her mind. The bitch could care less about what she did.

I'd tried my best to enter this conversation with a level head, clear of prejudices, so I could point out my concerns regarding Katherine's reappearance. But with Damon's lash still fresh and my own plaguing incident churning in with theirs, I found it difficult keeping my emotions from interfering.

Those emotions, meshing with the frustration I felt towards hitting a brick wall with Damon, had me pointing out, "How would you even know since you were too afraid to talk about it?"

"I wouldn't because I don't feel the need to bring that instance back up in conversation!" he argued, the very frustration I felt present in the set of his shoulders. "It's pointless to rehash the details. You of all people should understand that."

"No, I don't understand that, because you've pushed me to revisit the details all summer," I exasperated. How was it possible that someone who forced me to face my issues felt perfectly at ease letting someone else walk away from theirs without thinking twice? Especially now after he understood what the original incident did to the victim's family? "And all I see from you right now is excuses for what Katherine did and why it's easier to just let her get away with it instead of facing the consequences."

"I faced the consequences for both of us!" he defended. "And I get why it might be hard for someone in your position to understand that, but she deserves forgiveness too. She can't be labeled for her actions for the rest of her life."

"But at some point she should face them, deal with them and maybe even acknowledge what that night did to the family involved and maybe even you," I reasoned, arms stretched towards him. "She might have walked away from it without a scar, but it certainly gave you one."

One he'd required help to aid in healing. It wasn't fair that the bitch refused to even acknowledge it. It was even worse that Damon didn't want to either in this case. All for the sake of protecting someone that didn't deserve it.

"Your point being?" he spat back, still completely ignorant to the argument I was trying to make.

"That there's a difference between forgiveness and letting someone walk all over you."

There it was. I'd spoken my peace and let him know the difference between what was right about a situation and what was wrong. It was fine for Damon to ask me to forgive Stefan because he'd paid for his actions, dealt with the consequences that they brought. But Katherine walking away from her situation with her hands cleaned of every bit of dirt and blood was unmerited.

Damon had paid his dues plus hers, and she had no right traipsing back into his life without a single mutter of an apology for what she'd done to him. He'd earned his stable life, one without her in it.

Unfortunately, Damon still didn't seem to get that fact.

"This is ridiculous, Elena, and I don't want to fight about it anymore," he declared, shaking his head through the air as if he could remove the essence of this whole mess with that simple action. "I'm done talking about Katherine. Can we just forget that she's here for the time being?"

We'd reached an impasse. I saw the problem, could shout at him until I was blue in the face and tears streamlined down my face, but he wouldn't acknowledge it. And for a brief second, I could imagine how he felt so many times throughout our summer when I'd pushed back every instance he tried to help me confront or acknowledge my issue. With a little more pushing, I might have broken through the way he had with me.

Instead, my lips slipped and released a phrase that had been on my mind for days and with its release, all constructive notions slipped right through the cracks.

"Sure," I deadpanned. "Maybe this was just the argument we needed to make this whole thing easier anyway."

His eyes narrowed in my direction, when he questioned, "To make what easier?"

"Me leaving. You staying. Our parting," I clarified, feeling the break within as each sentence fell from my lips. They were hard sentences to face, but we'd both know this moment was coming eventually.

He laughed a cold, humorless laugh. "You have got to be shitting me."

"Does this sound like a joke to you because it certainly isn't one to me." I replied; the heat stinging my mouth as it blasted in his direction.

"You're reaching, Elena," he argued, shaking his head haphazardly through the air, before he took a step forward. "That fear you've finally overcome is back in full force today and you're letting it win."

"There's no fear," I defended, "only reality." The very present reality that in three days my ass would be headed back to Richmond while my boyfriend remained here – in this tiny town, absolutely refusing to acknowledge that the bitch that's visiting him had merely left him to deal with the aftereffects of her devastation on his own. I repeat, without batting a fucking eyelash.

Damon inched forward, capturing me under the force of his oceanic blues, as he removed Katherine from the equation, leaving only the two of us and one significant issue. "You can't honestly tell me that you still believe this is just a summer fling," he reasoned.

"You're the one who initially said it was," I clarified.

"Because I was feeding you what you wanted to hear, back when you were terrified of anything that sounded permanent," he disputed, before lifting his fingers to mimic the curve of my jaw. "There's something going on between us and it counts for more than just a summer. You know it. Otherwise you wouldn't care enough to hate Katherine for what she did to me."

So he had received the point I'd been trying to make during our fight. My head started to shake in startled disbelief, and tears threatened to spill over my lids, when he took my action the wrong way.

His other hand swept up to latch onto my bare cheek, stopping the swivel of my head. There was desperation swimming through the blue of his irises as he urged, "You're lying to me, you're lying to everyone around you, and most of all you're lying to yourself. So please, after everything we've been through, just answer me honestly. Is this really just a summer deal to you?"

"I…" I started, but cut off. My heart and my head were shooting off mixed signals, making it hard to formulate a response. On one hand, Damon had a point regarding Katherine and the anger I felt towards her because of what she'd done to him. I couldn't deny the relief I felt whenever I slipped into his hold or got swept away by the current of his affection. Damon had healed me this summer, fixed that part of me that was broken and filled in the hole that my parents and Stefan had left behind.

I cared about him, deeply. There was no question about that.

But on the other hand, a long-distance relationship required a deep resounding love and as much as I'd grown this summer, I still wasn't sure I was capable of that. I could handle the distance with Caroline; a friendship was merely words, and support. But a relationship required those things and so much more. Could it handle the obstacles that came with distance? Could it survive without the caresses, reassuring kisses, and passionate unions between the sheets?

I wasn't sure if it could.

The thought of losing those moments with Damon, even after the argument we just endured, had a tear slipping down my cheek and the truth falling as a whisper from my lips.

"I don't know." The words sounded hollow.

"Unbelievable," he muttered as his head made slashes through the air. "How is that we can be completely honest about everything else, but where we stand with each other?"

Tears were free-falling down my cheeks and I was incapable of stopping them. There was a fracture in my heart, threatening to shatter the entire thing and the agony radiating from Damon's eyes signified he felt the same thing. One agreement would end this entire mess.

All I had to do was accept that I was capable of a long-distance relationship and we'd be in the clear. No one would have to get hurt. But as much as I wanted to give in to that desire, I knew deep down inside that we still would. The separation would take its toll and we wouldn't survive.

In the end, we'd both still be left damaged by the relationship we'd tried to stretch out for longer than it was capable of withstanding. Most long-distance relationships didn't last. It was a known fact. And what was the point of elongating this ache as our relationship deteriorated?

"I don't know what you want me to say, Damon," I finally whispered. It was a damn miracle I'd had the ability to formulate the words and make them audible.

"The truth, that's it," he pleaded one last time, his hold on my cheeks tightening as the reality of what was about to happen swept through him.

"The truth is …" I began, with every intention of giving it to him, but something within me held the words back. The blue of his eyes had me captured, the scent of musk had me mesmerized, and the crackle of electricity under the contact of his fingertips had me frozen in place. Hope bubbled within me as his allure and everything he made me feel almost dropped me to my knees.

Concluding words failed to leave my lips as the battle over what I should do and what I wanted to do wreaked havoc within me.

But it didn't matter if I was able to finish my sentence or not, because as Damon's nodded his head and locked his jaw, it became apparent that he'd mentally finished it for me. And as his eyes dropped towards the ground and he slipped past me, through the front door of the bar without speaking another word, I realized that our relationship and whatever the hell we'd been doing this summer, was officially finished as well.

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

_Follow me on Twitter and Tumblr: morvamp_

**Well, yeah. This chapter was pretty darn heavy and I left you guys at a terrible stopping point. Unfortunately, I'm going to be leaving you guys hanging there for a bit too. I'm sorry! I really am, but I'm heading to Las Vegas for a week in a few days so I won't have the chance to write the next chapter. I will try super hard to find any bit of free time I can when I get back to pump this thing out. But I just wanted to give you all the warning that it might take some time. :(**

**On a side note. This is my first time visiting Las Vegas and if any of you have been there, I would love suggestions on places to go, shows to see, where to eat, etc. We have no idea what's good and what's not. So any suggestions would be fantastic. You can leave them along with your review or pm if you want. Either way works.**


	23. Chapter 23

**I'm back everyone and with one heck of a long chapter to make up for my absence! And when I say long, I mean… LONG. It's probably should have been split into two chapters, but since it took me a while to get it to you and the words were already written, I figured it was pointless splitting it up and making you wait for the second half.**

**One of you asked a question in your review last time regarding Bonnie, but it was when FF was acting weird. You weren't signed in so I couldn't reply personally. But the answer to your question is: Yes. Bonnie being a backstabbing little hoe was something I've had planned from the beginning.**

**As a side note: Thank you all for your suggestions about Vegas. I visited and ate at a lot of the places you suggested. It was incredible. Spent way too much money, drank more than I should, and had an overall awesome experience.**

_**Hope you all like the new chapter.**_

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><p>Jenna looked stunning. There was no better word to describe it. It wasn't the white dress that hugged the curves of her body to perfection or the tiny diamonds dangling from her ears and wrapped around her tiny wrists. It was the glow that emanated from her; the one that couldn't be manufactured by any make-up company in the world. Because this glow came from happiness. That pure form few people were able to obtain and all I could do was gawk from my position beside the window.<p>

After pulling on my lavender, knee-length dress and clicking all of my jewelry into place, I'd settled here. Off to the side, where I could observe while Jenna finished her perfect touches. I'd assured myself it was to watch the guests, which had started trickling into the backyard of the wedding venue a half hour ago, but knew there was really only one person I'd been yearning to catch a glimpse of.

So far, no dice.

I hadn't seen him since he'd walked out on me and I just needed to see him once before the ceremony. Just once to endure the initial shockwave and then I'd be fine.

Everyone else mingled a story below between the rows of chairs set across the lawn. Caroline and Tyler had maneuvered themselves towards the third row and were now engaged in a conversation with one of Jenna's friends from the bachelorette party and her husband. Bonnie, unfortunately, sat towards the back row, chatting up some poor fellow I could only assume was one of Ric's family members. I'd even caught a few brief sightings of Ric, but Damon had yet to make his appearance.

My eyes darted to a tall, dark-haired man as he walked up the aisle. This seemed to be happening quite often. I'd find someone who remotely resembled Damon from the back and latch onto him like gum to the bottom of a sneaker, only to have the subject turn around and my disappointment sag in my shoulders. This time was no exception. Jenna's old friend Kyle turned around, triggering the familiar frustration as I held in my groan.

"Can you fix this pin for me?" Jenna asked, pulling my eyes from the scenery outside of the old renovated barn she'd picked as her wedding venue. A single manicured fingernail pointed towards one of the swarovski crystal embellishments holding her hair in place. "It feels like it's falling out."

"There's about 50 of those things in there, 1 of them is bound to fall out," I observed with a soft smile before making my way to my aunt's backside. My fingers worked the pin, pushing and pulling until it settled firmly into the strands of her hair. "But it won't be this one."

"Perfect," she mused, as we both took a step back to inspect her overall appearance one last time.

"You really are," I agreed, a bit awestruck. "I don't think I've ever seen you look more beautiful, Jenna."

The smile on her face grew at the compliment before she turned on me and pulled me into a tight embrace. "Thank you, Elena, for everything that you've done this summer to help get me here. I don't think you understand how much it means to me to have you support this wedding."

"Of course I support this wedding," I assured as we pulled apart. My hands remained on her shoulders as I added, "Ric's a decent guy and if he has the power to make you look_ that_ happy, who am I to stand in the way?"

"He_ is_ a decent guy," she agreed, that smile incapable of sliding from her lips. Her head sashayed back and forth through the air in giddy excitement before she looked back at the mirror. "You know, I never thought that after Logan I'd be able to find someone like him."

"It's because you wanted to," I replied. It still marveled me that after the heartbreak Logan had caused my aunt; she still found the strength and hope to keep searching for the love of her life. If she'd shut down, Ric would have never come into our family and that might have been the biggest tragedy of all.

Sure, they'd had a few bumps in the road before getting here, but it was clear as the sky outside that my aunt was in a better place now that Ric had come along. Finances and baby included.

"Jenna, how were you able to do it?" I questioned after a few silent moments had passed.

My aunt's hands ran down the front of her dress as she turned to me and asked, "Do what, honey?"

"Open yourself up again after what Logan did to you?" I inquired sheepishly, intent on figuring out exactly what made love so easily welcomed in her eyes.

For the first time all day, the smile on her lips failed to hold its glowing enthusiasm. Instead, it was sad, the light of it not extending to her eyes, as understanding swept over her features. "Honey, you don't need my help with that."

I knew what she was insisting, but couldn't completely agree with her. Damon and I had come to an end, after all. It was the reason it felt like someone had taken a chisel to my heart. But for the sake of not spoiling her day with the disenchantments of my summer romance, I shrugged my shoulders and shot her a small smile. "Humor me then."

"Well," she started with a compassion flooding her eyes, "you and I both know there's a lot of people out there who are going to let you down. When you find one that tries his hardest not to, then you have to hold on. That's really what it comes down to."

The concept was so much simpler when thrown into words, but in reality so many other factors came into play. Circumstances ripped people apart, no matter how much you wished they wouldn't. I was heading back to school and despite the death grip my heart still had on Damon, my mind knew the odds of surviving the distance. They weren't good and I refused to elongate our mutual pain.

Cutting things off before I left was the way to go. It'd already been done and it supplied us both with the opportunity to move on. I would start fresh at school, use the lessons he'd taught me this summer, and open myself up to new people and ultimately, a new chance at love. Whatever I felt now would fade, and I'd finally be the new person I'd been aiming to be.

The only problem was the way we'd ended things. It felt like a bag of sand was settled deep in my gut and I swore to myself that before I left tomorrow, I'd smooth things over with Damon. After everything we'd been through, we needed to be honest with each other about why this wouldn't work.

More importantly, he needed to know it was simply the distance, nothing else. It had nothing to do with the girl I was when he first met me, complete with protective steel barriers or trust issues because he'd help me break through them all. The only things standing in our way were miles. Plain and simple.

At another time, I might have considered spilling my guts to Jenna and asking her advice. She always knew the right things to say in difficult and clustered situations, but this day wasn't about me. And besides, it was the last few moments I had alone with her before I left tomorrow.

So I threw my arm around my aunt, pulled her into me, and breathed out a heartfelt, "Thank you for the advice," into the side of her neck. "I know I don't say it enough, but since you're leaving tonight for your honeymoon and it's probably the last chance I have with you alone before I head back to school, I just wanted to say I love you."

Her grip on my back tightened, and I feared my words were destroying the hours of make-up applied to her face, but I added anyway, "And I promise to visit more than holiday breaks this time."

"I love you too, Elena," Jenna whispered into the curls of my hair, extending our embrace a few seconds longer. When we finally pulled apart, there was moisture in my aunt's eyes that I desperately wanted to dab away. "And I'd like that. I think Ric would too."

It still startled me how much Ric's approval genuinely meant to me, but I wasn't about to add anymore sappy comments to push those tears over my aunt's lids. So I cocked my head to the side, slid a smile over my lips and reminded, "Speaking of Ric, he's probably waiting for you. Are you ready to get hitched?"

Jenna fanned her eyes with her hands and blinked a few times, pushing the tears back to their original location. And as I swiped our two bouquets from the dresser, she nodded and exclaimed, "More than ever."

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><p>She was radiant, somehow separated from our dreamlike surroundings, as she glided down the aisle towards a mesmerized Ric. Twinkling accents danced over Jenna's bodice from the reflected rays of sun, but it was her smile that really set her apart. Diamond tears were already creeping down her face and I internally laughed for feeling so apprehensive about their free-falling earlier. At least this way, Ric had been able to see her before they'd started.<p>

I'd done an incredible job keeping my attention focused on the bride instead of the best man standing only a few feet away. But as Jenna stepped up and joined her future husband on the altar, I allowed myself a brief glance.

Damon's eyes locked with mine instantly, capturing me and leaving me paralyzed. My heart pulled, expanded, flipped, and pumped in my chest, and despite what was going on around us, all I could see was him. His black tux and midnight hair contrasted with the sapphire of his eyes and damn did he look good. But the elegant clothes and forced smile couldn't hide the pain rimming those very eyes of his, nor the subtle sag in his body.

I knew him so well, could see straight through his projected façade, and I couldn't hold the tears. They swelled behind my eyes and fell over the edges before I had the opportunity to blink them back.

Memories of this summer: the way he'd held me, our laughter filling the room, his unwavering faith in me, the sweet kisses, our passionate sessions, my previous fears and insecurities, the freedom he showed me, our heated arguments, the persistent patter of my heart, his skin on mine, that _feeling_, and the destruction of it all; they all rushed through me in one swift tidal wave of emotion, threatening to shatter my strength.

And as the tears continued to fall, I couldn't remove the lock of my eyes from his. They spoke apologies I couldn't currently verbalize, begging for some sort of acknowledgment that he understood I was sorry. That circumstances were genuinely beyond my control and that I never wanted to hurt him. Not after what he'd done for me this summer.

But I got nothing in return, just a swift shift of his head towards the bride and groom exchanging their vows, breaking our line of contact and freeing me from that paralyzing connection. I blinked at the break, pulling in a gulp of air before focusing my attention on the nuptial vows being spoken. Unfortunately, the separation didn't improve the impact of our moment. Instead, it festered, implanting itself and our memories deep into the caverns of my chest, as the tears continued to fall.

Thankfully, I wasn't the only one in the room crying and no one, but me, understood that these tears were for Damon instead of my aunt.

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><p>After the ceremony, I'd bolted for the bathroom to repair any damaging effects of my secret breakdown. 'Get your shit together, Gilbert,' I chastised to my reflection in the mirror. This was Jenna and Ric's special day and despite my unresolved drama with Damon, it needed to sit on the backburner until the events were over.<p>

And that's what it did as the reception proceeded. Using a high form of patience, I spent my time with Caroline and Jenna, sipping on a single flute of champagne, as we worked through the dinner, cake smashing, speeches, first dance, and most of the reception.

All the while, I had an eye on Damon, who was drinking considerably more than myself as he moved his way throughout the tables, chatting with people here and there and swaying more than I'd liked him to. Occasionally our eyes would catch, but he appeared to be avoiding me as well, always keeping the contact fleeting.

Keeping my distance was personally grueling and often times I caught myself heading over in his direction only to stop dead in my tracks. I couldn't do this with him right now, as much as I wanted to. Becoming an emotional mess wasn't a way to respect my aunt on her special day. So I kept up chit chat with the important couple and my remaining best friend, plastered a smile on my face, and played the perfect maid of honor to my well deserving aunt.

Bonnie, on the other hand, was a different story entirely. While Damon seemed just as intent on space as I was, my old friend did everything in her power to eliminate it. She was ruthless, always seeking a prime opportunity where she could corner me on my own. But I couldn't talk to her right now either. The girl still made my blood boil from her deception and fear that I'd turn into some heavy-talking, fist-swinging, piece of white trash was too prominent. Thankfully, she respected Jenna enough to steer clear from me when I attached myself to her hip on the dance floor. It was the only relief I had from the reception full of emotional death traps awaiting for me once I was through.

When the fast paced rhythm of The Beatles,_ 'Twist and Shout'_ died down and the DJ announced it was the last dance of the night, Jenna flipped her brows exuberantly into the air and declared, "Time to find my hubby."

Caroline practically mimed my aunt's actions before trudging through the crowd to find Tyler, leaving me alone on the dance floor.

The first notes of John Michael Montgomery's, _'I Swear'_ sounded over the speakers and I had to take a deep breath to keep myself from slipping over the edge. This had always been my mother's favorite song and Jenna knew that. It was her way of paying homage to the woman we both loved, who we both wished could be here to celebrate such a special engagement, and the dedication made my already tattered heart ache.

My arms had just started to wrap around my torso to hold my emotions together when a strong set of hands wrapped me up, forcing my body to sway to the slow, steady beat of the song. My eyes were still shut, fighting back the revealing liquid behind my lids, but I didn't need a visual to know it was Damon. His cologne was original, his touch was distinct, and his breath – enriched in the heady scent of bourbon - was comforting as it enveloped my skin.

"Thank you," I whispered into the fabric of his shirt, low and only for his ears to hear, as I molded into the support he was offering.

He said nothing, just held my body and kept us swaying in tune to the song from my childhood. A second could have passed, hell a week could have passed, before I pulled back to open my eyes and look at him. Damon was doing his best to focus on anything in our rustic surroundings besides me. His silence and avoidance of eye contact was a blatant reminder of his anger and where we stood, but his comforting embrace spoke of nothing but his devotion. Even when he was broken, he still found it in himself to be there when I needed him.

"I thought you didn't like country and yet you knew what song this was after only a few words. Very suspicious," I teased, but received nothing. Not a sly remark or cunning roll of his eyes - just nothing. And it made the knife twist further into my chest.

Hating the feeling and eager to pull Damon back to me, I tried a different tactic.

"You're drunk." I spoke softly, pointing out the obvious, as concern laced itself through the words.

"Quite the observer, aren't you?" he retorted, before finally lowering his eyes to meet mine. The touch of his hands around my backside were warm and gentle, contradicting the icy chill of his detached tone. "I'm just doing my part in making this whole thing easier. Perhaps, I'll even make a scene later."

I sighed at his verbal attack, understanding he was drunk and lashing out against the sole person responsible for his binge drinking. I deserved this. Getting snarky in return wouldn't help the situation at all. "Do you really think Ric would appreciate his best man being hammered at his wedding?" I replied, gently - cautiously.

Damon cocked his head to the side and replied confidently, "Considering I paid for their airfare and honeymoon to Aruba, I'd say that covers any damage I could possibly cause."

Pulling in a deep breath of air, I responded, "That's quite a wedding gift."

"When you have the money," he muttered absentmindedly, peeling his eyes from mine and alerting me he was through with the general and dull conversation taking place.

It was crystal clear in the hard set of his features that he was only here to help me through a difficult moment. Discussion wasn't something he necessarily wanted to take part in. As soon as the dance was over, he'd be on his way, back to avoiding me and every bit of pain the sight of me caused. But I'd finally had him in my grasp and the time to talk was now or never. It's what I'd been yearning for all night and I wasn't about to let the opportunity slip right through my fingers.

So I sighed, threw sympathy behinds the chocolate of my eyes and stated, "Damon, we should talk about…"

"I'm surprised Bonnie didn't already have another guy lined up as your date for this thing," he scowled, cutting me off before I could finish the single sentence that led us down a more desirable road.

I held back my remark about how surprised I was that Damon hadn't brought Katherine as his own date, and instead confessed, "That would be kind of difficult considering we're not speaking at the moment."

"Yeah, Caroline told me," he replied. Of course she had. She was still dating his roommate and the two of them were friends. It was absurd to think she'd have kept a thing like that from him.

"Just wanted to check if you were still able to spit out something true," he added, the warm breath dancing against the frame of my ear evoking trembles down my spine. How was it that he could be so close and yet feel so distant?

"C'mon, that's not fair," I countered, pulling back so he was forced to look me in the eyes. Couldn't he see that I was hurting too?

Apparently not, because he rolled that breathtaking blue underneath of his lids and retorted, "Regardless, it felt good to say."

He was insufferable, acting like a child, and I was finding it more difficult feeling sorry for him by the second. It was understandable that he was hurt; I hadn't explained why we needed to break up when we had, but how were we supposed to talk about anything with his walls up the way they were?

I tried for a smack of reality - the all too prominent deadline that had resulted in this dysfunctional mess. "I leave tomorrow. You know that right?" We had so little time left to make things right, to part on decent terms.

"Why do you think I'm acting so friendly?" he countered with a spiteful smirk spread over his lips.

"I don't want this to be how we say goodbye," I insisted, ignoring his dig and lifting my right hand to grip onto the fabric of his white undershirt. My fingertips clung to the material, begging for him to understand how important this was for me, for us.

The rigid set of his features fell then, revealing the torment behind his well-constructed mask. "Then how do you want it to happen?" he asked; the fight over what he wanted and the disinterest he was trying to project was prominent. "Because either way, you're still saying it."

"Have you two made up yet?" Bonnie's voice broke through our moment and I grimaced. We'd been so fucking close to getting to a sincere discussion. Damon had been right on the edge of letting that wall down so I could explain and yet, here came my backstabbing, once upon a time best friend to ruin the entire thing.

"Why does it even matter to you?" Damon sneered, twisting his head to take in her presence.

"Because I'm her best friend," she defended, defiantly throwing her hands onto her hips.

_Was_ my best friend, sounded in my mind, eager to shoot out in her direction. But before I was able to formulate the words, a humorless laugh left Damon's throat. "Tell me; was any of your supportive act this summer real? Or were you just pushing her in my direction to make the blow easier when you told her you were sleeping with her ex?"

Bonnie scoffed and deadpanned, "Classy, Damon."

"And yet, valid," I pointed out.

Damon's eyes shifted back onto mine where I gazed at him appreciatively. Noticing we'd firmly teamed up and landed ourselves on the same side didn't sit well with him and his hands dropped from around me. Discomfort edged the corners of his eyes as he looked from Bonnie back to me and with a rake of his hand through his hair, he mumbled, "I need another drink."

"Damon," I called out after him as he walked through the mass of couples on the dance floor. It hadn't been too loud; I was still trying to maintain the appearance that everything was fine in front of my aunt. She didn't need to worry about my silly drama when she was as happy as she was. Fortunately, she didn't seem to notice as she sang lyrics against Ric's lips with a giddy smile spread across hers.

"Elena, you can't ignore me all night," Bonnie interjected when I tried to turn and head off in Damon's direction. I wasn't nearly finished with him just yet and there was still a lot that needed to be said.

So I hissed under my breath, "I've done a good job thus far," and tried to walk away again. But her hand extended to latch around my forearm, holding me in place. I spun around to face her and chastised, "Why are you even here, Bonnie? I thought you'd get the hint that me storming out of your room was me uninviting you to my aunt's wedding."

"I'm here to support her," she reasoned.

"Really?" I replied, incredulous. "Then why have you been stalking me all night?"

"Because we need to talk," she answered after a long sigh.

"No," I objected, "you need to give me space before we end up making a scene." I didn't want to make one at my aunt's wedding, but so help me god, Bonnie was making it difficult. Not only was I still pissed at her for what she'd done with my ex, but now I was livid that she'd sent Damon off in another direction after I'd waited patiently all night for the right opening.

Right now, the last thing I needed was for her self-righteous attitude to be thrown in my face and more _you need to forgive me's_ slung in my direction.

"C'mon, Elena, I never meant to hurt you," she tried to reason. "I made a mistake and I'm trying to apologize for it."

Problem was, I wasn't ready to accept her apology. On the relationship importance chart, she didn't sit too high right now. On the other hand, Damon was right up at the top and he'd somehow disappeared amidst the crowd.

When it dawned on me that I'd officially lost him, I honed my eyes from the crowd I'd previously been searching and narrowed them in Bonnie's direction. "Where's Elijah? I'm surprised you didn't bring him with you."

My accusation had her arm finally shooting back against her chest and regret pouring into her cinnamon irises. "You know I would never do that."

"Well, I didn't think you'd sleep with him while I was still with him either," I quipped.

Bonnie shook her head and tried to reach for me again, but this time I was too quick. My arm moved just beyond her reach as she explained, "I'm trying to make it right. Do you want me to break up with him? Because I will. If that will make this right between us again, then I will."

"Ladies, is everything alright over here?" Caroline interjected, approaching us from the crowd with a worried, protective expression. I hadn't realized the final song had ended, but chatter was the only sound now filling the room. In a matter of minutes, Jenna and Ric would be throwing themselves into a limo and heading off to the airport and that was something I couldn't be absent for.

"Everything's fine," I assured, shooting Caroline an appreciative smile, before concluding, "I was just leaving so I could say goodbye to my aunt and uncle in law."

I then turned on my heals and followed the flow of the crowd through the front doors of the reception hall.

"Elena," Bonnie called after me, causing me to wince. She'd been much too loud. Not nearly as discreet as I'd tried to remain when launching cruel words in her face and I feared she was seconds away from running after me.

Thankfully, Caroline had my back and I heard her insist, "This day is about Jenna, not you, Elena or your issues. So just let her go." And I smiled, grateful for the sole best friend I still had. The one who never let me down.

* * *

><p>"I'll be back all of the time to watch that tummy of yours grow. I promise," I declared, tightening my hold around my aunt. It lasted a few more seconds before she finally pulled back and kissed my cheek. "Now have a great trip."<p>

"Both of you," I added as Ric pulled me into a hug of his own. Unlike the handshake we'd shared at the beginning of summer, this embrace wasn't uncomfortable. He was family now, the one who'd be there to take care of Jenna and my niece or nephew while I was off completing my degree, and I was thankful for his presence.

He smiled as we pulled apart and wrapped his hand around my smiling aunt. "We will."

Jenna added, "Have a safe trip back to school," and with one last lingering look, they filed into the limo and drove off. Obnoxious cans clanked and danced against the asphalt as I watched them drive away, already feeling the hole in my chest widening at their departure, when Bonnie sounded at my back.

"Elena," she stated hesitantly.

I groaned, wishing that I could just get a single fucking minute to deal with my families' departure before falling back into this shit with her, and turned around.

Her thumbs fumbled together in front of her chest as she explained, "I know I'm the last person you want to see right now, but it's about Damon."

"What about Damon?" I questioned, my entire demeanor shifting at the delivery of her line and the foreboding held within it.

"He's drunk," she breathed out with a shrug of her shoulders. Yeah, that I was well aware of, but the second half had my nerves standing up in high alert. "And right now, he's getting onto his bike ready to drive off."

I didn't speak a single word in response. My body switched to protective mode and I didn't miss a beat before pushing past her, through the crowd, and towards the side of the building. My heels dug into the lush grass surrounding the old barn and when they landed on the concrete of the parking lot, a single headlight stood out amidst the sea of black.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I shouted as I charged right up to his side and swiped his helmet from between his fingers.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he slurred back with wild eyes. "I'm going home." There was an arrogance, cockiness about him that rivaled those first few instances we'd spent together, but without the appeal.

My head slashed through the air as his arm swiped out for his helmet. "Not like this you're not."

A smile slipped over his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes, when he mocked, "Aww, it's nice to see you still care."

I did fucking care! How was he so incapable of seeing that? There was no way in hell I was letting him drive off as inebriated as he was and I got that he was pissed and the alcohol was making him stay stupid shit, but he was wearing my patience thin. Letting him drive drunk was something I simply couldn't tolerate. I'd made the mistake before and I was damned if I was letting it happen again. The decision had already been resolved, and I was standing firmly behind it. He wasn't driving.

"I know you're pissed and you're hurt, but just look past that for a second to see what you're doing. I won't let you drive off and hurt someone, or yourself," I argued, my fingertips gripping into his helmet before I softened my tone and drove my point home. "Neither of us could live with that on our conscious."

Damon closed his eyes, accepting defeat as my words sunk in. Both of us knew there was nothing he could say to refute the argument I'd just made. This was my area of expertise; end of discussion.

He was silent a few moments, before eventually releasing a sigh and reopening his eyes. The icy exterior had shattered and his eyes finally possessed the warmth I was so familiar with as he insisted softly, "I need to get home, Elena."

"Fine," I consented, "Then I'm driving." By some stroke of luck I was actually able to help him out here. I wasn't perfect on the bike yet, but whatever my skill, it was sure to be better than Damon's at this point. Plus, we still had a discussion that needed to be had.

"You don't have to, I can get somebody else," he offered, apprehension stretched over his features.

"I know you can," I replied, holding the eye contact so he knew this was about more than just keeping him safe. With him, it always seemed to be about so much more.

* * *

><p>"Thanks, Care," I said as she dropped my car keys into the palm of my hand. We were standing outside of Damon and Tyler's house, where Damon was currently stumbling up the front stairs. She and Tyler had followed us here; her in my car, he in hers, so I'd have a way home later. They were heading back to her place for the evening, leaving the space empty for Damon and myself.<p>

"Are you sure staying is the best option here? He's plastered," she replied, sliding her eyes in Damon's direction.

"I know, but it's the last chance I have," I reasoned. "If I don't talk to him tonight, I'll leave with him thinking we ended for the wrong reasons." And I couldn't do that. Not with the hurt I'd seen painted over him today. And especially not after the pain he'd help me deal with over the summer.

"Oh my girl," Caroling gushed before throwing her arms around me. "So mature now."

She giggled into the strands of my hair as I mused, "And it's time to make things right with the person responsible for that newfound maturity. Even though you'd never guess it by the looks of him."

She pulled back and positioned her lips into a sad smile. "Okay, well drive safely and I'll be by first thing in the morning for hugs and kisses goodbye."

"Don't remind me," I groaned, mimicking the downward curve of her lips.

She pushed her lips into a pout and blew me a kiss before dancing off towards her car. I turned to Damon, who'd made it to the front door, and ran to catch up with him. We'd just breached the house when he turned around, bringing his face an inch from mine, and insisted, "You can leave now. I'm home safe."

My eyes swept down to his lips, which only required the tiniest lean to press into. They called to me like a siren, begging me to inch forward, when I pushed my eyes back onto his. Damon knew what he was doing, and this was his way of making my pain as unbearable as his. He was simply getting me back by using the appeal he'd always known was irresistible to his own advantage.

But I was wiser now, could stand my ground. So I placed more between us by maneuvering past him and further into the house. "Damon, can we just stop with the snide remarks already?"

"But we're having so much fun," he retorted. My back was to him, but I could feel his smirk burning my back.

"It's just you and me now." No one else to put on a show for. "And we need to talk about this," I urged before turning around to face him.

The smirk I'd assumed was planted on his face was present before his hand came up to swipe it away. Frustration took its place as he released a deep sigh and argued, "I'm just really not in the mood to rehash a conversation we've already had. It's the same old song and dance with us, Elena. You want me, I want you, but you're making excuses for why it won't work."

His head shook back and forth, before his arms extended in my direction. "Frankly, I'm done with the bullshit."

"I'm not making excuses," I countered, and for once meaning it. We didn't have excuses; we had the reality of distance.

Damon stepped forward then, eliminating all of the necessary space I'd placed between us, as he stressed, "Then tell me the truth. Why did you drive me home? And don't give me the line that it was for my safety. There's more behind it and you know it."

He was too close, too fucking close and I couldn't concentrate. Two days had gone by without his skin on my skin. To a bystander, that would seem like an insignificant amount of time, but not to me. I was used to that craved contact every day and without it, my body was feigning. Having him this close was agonizing, every inch was igniting at the thought of his skilled hands on me, and it was hard to concentrate.

"Because I didn't want to leave with you thinking this break up had anything to do with you," I answered, doing my best to keep my breathing even and steady.

With his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed, he studied my reaction to his approach. His brows furrowed at what he found before they relaxed and an enlightened smirk slipped over his lips. "I don't think that's it either," he refuted, a mischievous twinkle in his baby blues.

That twinkle had my heart thumping wildly in my chest as I assured, "It's the truth." Because it _was_ the truth. Whatever the hell was happening with my body wasn't the reason I came. It was simply the result of what Damon's body did to mine - a wildfire of desire. It was fucking uncontrollable.

"No," he disputed, stepping forward so my back landed against the wall. I was cornered, and this was further enhanced when his hands lifted to grip ahold of my tiny waist. "You're here because you want what you always want."

"And what is that?" I breathed out. The feel of his hands on me had my blood pumping through my veins, my muscles contracting, and my insides signing 'Hallelujah,' but I couldn't give in to my desires. Having sex wouldn't fix anything, only talking would. I repeated that mantra over and over in my head.

His hips pushed into me then, planting my ass against the wall as his front caressed against mine. I could feel his erection, rushing all of my blood south as I tried to hold in my whimper. But when he leaned forward and brought his lips to my neck, to whisper a sultry, "Me,'" against my delicate skin, I nearly came undone.

Using all of my restraint, I kept my hands plastered against the wall instead of his hair where they desperately wanted to dive into, and breathed, "Damon." It'd been meant as a warning, but came out as nothing more than a needy whisper. Damn my betraying mouth.

"C'mon, Elena, just be honest," he purred into the arc of my neck, causing my back to arch from the wall against his chest. Pushing his leg between my thighs, they parted willingly as I felt the warmth of his skin against my anticipating center. "You didn't come here to smooth things over, you came here for this. We both know it."

It was lust, the physical that had initially attracted me to him - what I'd wanted our relationship to be before feelings became involved and attachments evolved into something messy. It was spiking hot and hard between my thighs, tempting and swirling with my rational thought process. Letting it consume me would have been the easier choice to make, but the problem was that things _had_ evolved, feelings _had_ developed and I needed to mend what we'd both broken.

Going through with this would only muddle our relationship further, remind us of what we were losing. Because even if we gave in for this tiny moment, we'd still say goodbye. It was inevitable.

"We can't," I panted. My eyes were closed and despite my words, my hips were grinding meticulously against his leg. It appeared I no longer had control over what happened since my body was acting on its own impulse now.

He placed wet kisses against my jawline, working his way towards my lips. A scolding line was left in his wake as he purred, "Just because we're through doesn't mean we can't have one more night of fun. Don't fight it."

All I seemed to do around him was fight off my urges. In the beginning I fought against the call of his seduction and lately it was the lure and truth of our attachment. I'd somehow circled back to my original battle, but both had me exhausted. I didn't want to fight anymore.

"Stop overthinking and just do what you really want to do," he demanded, his eyes locked on mine as I opened them. Our lips were just beyond contact and he smelled of bourbon and compelling lust. The current running between us had my entire body sparking from the connection. It was too much, too powerful, and I couldn't resist.

My lips catapulted forward, crashing against his, as passion exploded under my skin. The choice I made hadn't been the right one, it certainly hadn't been the healthiest for the next step in our relationship - but damn did it feel like it was.

The only thing more delicious than Damon in a tux, was ripping it off of him as we became a blur of limbs, discarded clothes, and frantic movements. Our act this time wasn't sweet or sensual, but instead fueled by denied lust. Every inch of his bare skin stretched over hard muscle called for my mouth and every opening of mine called for his.

We were everywhere, never unlinking as we devoured each other's bodies, leaving marks in the process. And when he slammed my back against the wall and entered me in one swift thrust, I called out his name like the deity he was – praising him, this moment, and my weak will that allowed it to happen.

It wasn't make-up sex. However, in some distorted way I knew it was still a form of us making love as we both held on to what felt natural – to a union that had too many obstacles to ever really survive.

But tomorrow didn't matter; all that mattered was right now. And right now, there was nothing more right nor satisfying than the combination of him and me.

* * *

><p>We were still twined together an hour later, lying on his bed. My fingers traced patterns across the expanse of his naked chest as his twisted under strands of my hair. No words had been spoken yet as we both stretched the ease of our encounter out a few more minutes before reality reared its ugly head.<p>

It'd hadn't been make-up sex. It'd been one last climax before we reached our end.

"That probably wasn't the smartest move on our parts," I finally released with a giggle into his chest as a means of masking the truth in the statement.

"Yeah," he mused, still absentmindedly playing with my locks, "but it _sure_ was fun."

I sighed against his skin, savoring the satisfied state of my body and drawled, "Yeah it was."

He'd sobered up a bit, and all of his previous anger had been channeled into our passionate act. All that was left now was the Damon I'd known all summer and a prime opportunity to speak the truths I'd come here to say before lust got in the way. A part of me wanted to remain in this moment, still holding on to the ease of our physical relationship, but unfortunately, I knew it was impossible. Our physical connection had never been the problem; it was everything that came after and how to deal with it correctly.

I finally understood what that correct way was and I took a deep breath to prepare myself for being completely open. No more internal thoughts that remained trapped in my head, only reasons of honesty came next.

"Damon," I initiated softly, tilting my head to look up at his deep pools of blue.

"Hmm," he murmured, running his hand along the flesh of my back.

"You know I'm not making excuses right?" I proclaimed gently. "When I came to you the other day, I had no intention of starting an argument for the sake of breaking us up."

At the shift of our relaxing moment into something inevitably more arduous, his hand stopped running patterns on my skin and he released a sigh. "I know. I was just drunk and angry, shooting off anything that came to my head. "

"Do you really know, though?" I questioned, pleading it was the God's honest truth.

"Yeah," he answered with a nod, before lifting his fingers to ghost the skin of my jaw. His voice was smooth, not accusatory, as he added, "And I also know you think that you're not making excuses, but you are."

"And _I_ know you have faith in Katherine that isn't deserved. She may not be the terrible person I have painted in my head, but she owes you an apology. And I don't think she's earned to have someone like you back in her life without offering you that," I replied in the same, soft voice. We were releasing truths we'd kept bottled inside, not starting arguments and I intended to keep it that way.

"You're going to make your own decisions and I get that. But you're better than her, Damon," I declared, placing a single kiss on his chest as I closed my eyes and added, "And you're better than me."

"No, I'm not," he refuted, before lacing his hands beneath my arms to pull me closer to his face. "You're a completely different girl than the one I met three months ago; you just don't see the whole picture yet."

"No, I'm just not finished yet," I corrected, lowering my chin to rest on the topmost section of his chest. "And that's why distance won't work between us. No matter how much I wish it could."

His hand shifted to trap a strand of hair behind my ear. "Distance won't work because you're scared and don't want to face it."

"I _am_ scared," I admitted along with a deep gush of air, leaning into the palm of his hand. "There's statistics out there that do nothing but insist on our failure. And I don't want to hurt either of us further by dragging out something that might not last."

"We're not a statistic, Elena," he defended with conviction. "We're strong enough to beat those odds."

"And I believe that. You and I are something I never thought I'd find and I trust you completely. But me, I'm not so sure," I confessed. "I grew this summer thanks to you and I'm becoming someone my parents would have wanted me to be, but I still have so far to go. I haven't faced anything on my own yet without a life raft. So, at this point, I'm not sure what I'm able to deal with on my own and I'm not sure I'm strong enough to make it work. And you deserve someone who's 100% sure."

"You're really using the 'it's not you, it's me' line right now, aren't you?" he asked, releasing a low chuckle. The cracks within it were the only dead giveaway that despite our masks, there was a heavy undercurrent of ache settling over us over what happened after this discussion.

I bit down on my bottom lip, and shot him an apologetic smile. "I guess I am, but the difference between me and the trillion other people using it is that I actually mean it."

"Excuses," he dismissed with a playful roll of the eye, indication he understood what I was trying to say and wasn't building up an army to fight with me over it. It didn't surprise me. We'd both already accepted this thing was over between the two of us; this moment was simply about speaking our minds.

"You just don't see yourself in the clearest light," he proclaimed, adoration slipping through the words as the pad of his thumb skimmed the surface of my cheek.

"Hopefully someday I will," I whispered, the only statement I'd let slip to give him hope for us in the future. I hadn't meant for it to escape, it wasn't right dragging him along as I finished getting my shit together, but sometimes words had a way of reaching deserving ears. So instead of ignoring the slip-up, I decorated it with a truthful, "And it'll be because of you."

His eyes clouded over and his brows knitted on his forehead as he contradicted, "I don't think you see me in the clearest light either."

"No," I assured, reaching forward to capture his lips beneath mine in a slow, sensual kiss. Liquid formed in the corners of my eyes as I realized this was one of the last, if not _the_ last kiss we'd share before I left. Just because I'd made my decision and knew it was the right one, didn't mean it wasn't tearing me up from the inside out. "You, I see perfectly."

I saw him far too well – the beautiful, raven-haired man that came in and took over my summer. Redefining the course of my future so someday I'd be open and ready for affection like his. I simply wasn't there yet, and as I reached down to give his hand one last squeeze, I lifted myself from the bed to find my clothes because the time had come for me to leave.

As I pulled on articles of clothing, I felt the atmosphere start to shift and our façade slowly fade. The truth was setting in and I felt the pressure constrict against my chest. I'd just strapped my bra into place when Damon spoke up from his bed. "You know, you could stay the night if you want."

An invitation that every inch of me wanted to accept.

"No, I can't," I answered, as the first tear slipped down my cheek. And this time, a spoken, truthful explanation wasn't necessary. He knew me too well, read my expressions with ease and all it took was one look at my face to see how difficult it was for me to walk away right now. Staying the night, feeling his defining arms wrapped around me as we pretended our world was perfect, would only make it worse in the morning.

There was no way I'd be able to say goodbye with any sort of dignity after that.

So he nodded in understanding, and thankfully remained a beautiful mess of limbs and sheets on his bed as I finished getting dressed. His mask had started to slip after my tears, leaving distress splashed over his features, and I tried my best to keep my eyes from drifting to that image. The heart-rending concept of goodbye loaded in the back of my throat and my hand had just reached for the door, when he admitted softly, "I loved you."

With my mouth dangling open in shock, I turned around to face him, simultaneously thankful and shattered that I hadn't visually witnessed the confession, when he added, "You should know that."

And no matter how I felt or what response I had for those three defining words, there was only one that wouldn't make this harder on both of us than it already was.

"I do now." The words came out in broken pieces, and brought with them a threatening potential of torrential downpour along my cheeks. I blinked the threat back, begging for the strength to hold off the salty wave because if I couldn't convince Damon that I was firmly behind this decision of mine, how the hell was I supposed to expect him to be?

Jenna's advice from that morning sounded in my mind and my feet begged for me to move towards him instead of the door so I could hold on and never let go. With that fervent crave, I couldn't possibly bear the words _'Goodbye, Damon'_ or the finality behind them. So I settled for something else: one last opportunity to prolong this unbearable heartache.

"I leave tomorrow at 11."

The invitation hung in the air as I held myself together. Tears filled my eyes, closing over the edges. They were so close to falling and I was dangerously near that point of coming undone when he offered, "I'll be there to say goodbye."

And when I shot him a small smile and walked out of his room, it was that single statement - that promise of tomorrow and everything it eventually brought - that resulted in my falling apart.

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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	24. Chapter 24

**Hey everyone! I'm back and with another long chapter to hopefully make up for the time delay again. I know each chapter takes way too long for me to update and it seems to only be getting worse, but my DEvotion to this couple is still wavering after the finale. I'm stuck in that same funk and I haven't been able to shake it, which makes writing a lot harder than it used to be. Plus we're so close to the end of this thing that I think I'm subconsciously holding it off so I don't have to say goodbye.**

**And that is why I must thank you all again, so so so so much for the reviews, favorites, follows, and support that keep me going with this story and for sticking with me. I love you all so much and if I could buy you gift baskets or your personal Damon's or something to prove just how much you all mean to me, I totally would. But since I can't, please take me on my word that I adore you all. And appreciate you so much. **

_**Hope you like the chapter.**_

* * *

><p>I woke the next morning to the piercing chimes of the doorbell being pressed repeatedly and rather ferociously if I had to guess. Glancing at the warm body next to me, I grunted into the air and threw the covers off.<p>

The monotonous tone of the doorbell continued to blast my ears and I screamed, "I'm coming!" as I quickly descended the stairs. Despite my words, and to my dismay, the visitor kept up their relentless finger jamming, causing obscenities to come fumbling from my mouth and my fingers clenching in to fists. It was 9 o'clock in the morning and after the night I had, the last thing I needed was to wake up to this wretched noise and for some asshole to destroy my aunt's doorbell while she was on her honeymoon.

When I finally reached the door, I didn't hesitate before throwing it open and yelling, "Jesus Christ! That was a bit excessive, don't you think?"

To my relief, the person on the other side of the door wasn't a Jehovah's Witness, but what I got wasn't much better. Elijah didn't hesitate before storming past me into the house, ignoring my previous words, and demanding, "You need to call Bonnie now!"

"Excuse me?" I asked, incredulous, as my mind tried to process the fact that my ex was standing in my living room.

He shook his head haphazardly through the air and rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath in the process. "You and me, we have our past and I'll be the first to admit that it's not the brightest, but whatever happened between us is just that… in the past."

Well, yeah. Looking at Elijah, I felt none of the giddy tingles I'd previously held for him. He was nothing to me now. Just a member of the opposite sex, staring at me with wild, demanding eyes. But what he was demanding from me, well, that was the problem. I really had no clue.

"Elijah?" I questioned, tossing my arms over my chest and narrowing my eyes in his direction. "You're gonna have to be straight with me here. Why the hell are you at my house?"

"Bonnie broke up with me this morning," he answered, raking his hand through his golden hair. Frustration and desperation were clear in the action and written on his face as he explained, "Because she thinks that it'll help the two of you fix your relationship. And yeah, Bonnie and I might have fucked up how we got started, but, Elena, things were good between us now. I need her back and I can't get her without your help."

He stood only a few feet away from me now, his arms practically stretched out towards me in a begging position, and I couldn't stop the laughter from rising from my chest and escaping through my lips. It was bitter and frosty when it shot out in his direction because the irony of this entire situation was just too much. I couldn't believe the guy that had cheated on me was actually standing here begging me to repair his relationship with the girl he'd cheated on me with. Who the hell did he think he was? And didn't I have enough relationship problems on my own without being dragged in to fix other people's?

"You cheated on me! With my best friend of all people!" I spat back, arms flailing in irritation. "And now you want me to give Bonnie my blessing so the two of you can ride off into the sunset together?"

At my tone, Elijah took a step back and lowered his eyes to the floor. He was silent a moment, alerting me to the fact that maybe he understood the absurdity of what he was really asking, before his eyes lifted back up onto mine. His voice was smooth, apologetic, as he declared, "I'm sorry for what I did to you and I mean that."

But I wasn't having any of it. My emotions had been fried last night with my own drama and there was no way in hell I was letting Elijah suck me further into his. So I shook my head, narrowed my eyes, and loaded venom into my throat. "No you don't. You're just sorry you got caught."

Understanding flashed through Elijah's eyes before he nodded slowly in defeat. Uncomfortable silence filled the space around us, inflating me with a sense of victory, when his sigh broke through the silence. "Elena, let's be honest with each other for a minute. Okay?"

I said nothing in return. Not even a head nod as my answer, but he didn't wait for one to continue on.

"What I did was wrong and I was an asshole for some of the things I said. They didn't come out right that morning, but that doesn't mean they weren't rooted in truths. You and I were never going anywhere. We were just a little fun. That's all you wanted and you made it clear from the start."

His tone was gentle, instantly transporting me back to Damon's bedroom and the way I'd tried to get him to understand me last night. The tone and the differences pointed out between the relationship I'd shared with Elijah and the one I'd shared with Damon hit way too fucking close to my heart.

Blinking my eyes, I removed the thought from my mind and returned to the current conversation just in time to see Elijah take a step forward and confess, "But Bonnie and I are something and I don't know what yet, but it's more than just a little fun."

There was fire in his eyes, similar to the dedication I'd often seen in Damon's, when he pleaded, "So please call her. I know you won't do it for me, but do it for Bonnie. Please."

I wanted to ignore that unsettling fire in his eyes, that shining devotion that rivaled some of the moments Damon had shared with me, and I especially wanted to ignore how spectacular it was that someone held it for Bonnie. After what she'd been through and the way she flipped through men, it was downright unbelievable that someone was here, begging me to fix things because they saw a potential future with her.

But I couldn't. Especially not the last part. What Bonnie had done was pretty fucking low, but despite my feelings for her at the moment, I wouldn't let them overshadow what she had going for her now. Not when the change in her was this huge.

So I looked up at my ex. There was no smile on my face or friendly moment where I told him his actions were forgiven. Instead, I just muttered, "I'll call her if you leave."

Because like he'd already guessed - I wasn't doing this for him; I was doing it for her.

"Okay," he replied, nodding in acceptance before making his way towards the front door. His hand had just landed on the handle when he turned his head and proclaimed softly, "And, Elena, despite what you might believe, I really am sorry."

Maybe I believed him, maybe I didn't. But that didn't matter. All that did was that I used his remorse to my benefit.

"You can prove that to me by treating her right," I insisted.

"You have my word," he responded, before one last head nod and exiting through the front door.

At his departure, I loosened my previously un-noticed clenched fists and took a deep gulp of air. This certainly wasn't how I'd intended on starting my morning and already I felt the signs of a headache. It didn't come as a surprise considering everything I had stacked on my plate and the late hour in which I threw myself into bed last night. Looking at the clock, I couldn't even remember what time my eyes had finally shut, but knew it'd been sometime after three.

I decided not to dwell on the events of the night before and made my way to the kitchen pantry. Two aspirin were thrown down the back of my throat along with a cool drink of tap water and without further hesitation; I picked up the phone and dialed Bonnie.

It only rang once before her voice sounded on the other end.

"Elena?" she asked, shocked.

The sound of her voice still sent flames dancing through my veins, but I pushed the anger back and got down to business. "It's me, but before you say anything, I'm not calling to patch things up or smooth things over just yet. I still stand behind what I said before. You fucked up and that doesn't come without consequences."

She said nothing as I took a deep breath and pushed the next words through my clenched jaw. "But one of them shouldn't be Elijah." The supportive words felt like acid on my tongue, but I reminded myself that the girl had been one of my best friends for 18 years. She screwed up, yes, but even she deserved happiness if it was knocking on her door.

"Really?" she replied, completely incredulous.

"Yes. If you're happy than stay with him," I assured, once again struggling to push the words out, before I added something a little more satisfying. "We both know I was over him a long time ago."

Her sigh came through on surround sound before she claimed, "I didn't break up with him because I thought you still had feelings for him. I did it because I wanted to prove that you come before any guy. You always have and I just…" She broke off just in time for me to hear the sniffle and although the sound pulled on my heartstrings, I wasn't ready to give in to that pull just yet. So I stood my ground and remained silent when she concluded, "I messed up and I don't even know why I kept doing it behind your back."

"Because you like him," I answered automatically. It was the logical answer and the truthful one. Bonnie Bennett truly and genuinely had found herself emotionally attached to a guy and I couldn't stand in the way of something that monumental.

"I do," she confirmed.

Nothing came next and before we had the chance to head down a path that involved more apologizing, I said, "But that being said, I'm still angry at you. You lied to me and you went behind my back and that's something that's gonna take time for me to get over. So just give me that, please."

Silenced followed, sending my nerves on high alert. It was unsettling since Bonnie never remained silent. She always had an opinion or a point of view that absolutely needed to be shoved down your throat. I should have been thankful that I'd finally spoken my peace, but all I could envision was the defense she was building in response.

To my surprise, all she came with was, "School's gonna be weird without you."

"I know," I agreed, understanding what she meant far too well considering I was returning with no one. Bonnie at least had a few friends she gossiped with from time to time. I had acquaintances and those I pretended to like to meet new guys.

"But if space is what you want," she said.

"It is," I insisted.

"Then you can have it," she replied in defeat, taking me by surprise. "But, Elena…"

"Yeah?"

"You know my room number whenever you're ready. I'll be here for you. You know that right?" she questioned.

I found myself nodding, despite the fact that she couldn't see it, and answered, "Yeah I do." And despite everything, I actually believed it.

"Okay. Then, I guess I'll see you at school," she concluded, before hanging up the phone.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, thankful to have that portion of my day over when Caroline's voice sounded at my back.

"If she really got anything that happened to you this summer, she'd have realized on her own that all you needed was a little time," she said, the cracks of first morning speech present in her voice.

Her hair was still a matted blonde mess, hanging halfway out of her ponytail in random chunks of curls as she rubbed her puffy eyes and stepped into the kitchen to grab the coffee pot.

My eyes followed her movement, appreciative of the suggestion, as I asked, "What do you mean by that?"

"Well," Caroline shrugged, causing the pot to shift slightly under the stream of the faucet, and answered matter of factly, "one of your biggest lessons was forgiveness and how to have it."

I waited for her to start listing off the names and instances that supported her statement. Either Damon or she would have worked. Even those I'd forgiven that she didn't know about would have worked… like Stefan. But when it became clear nothing more was coming from her end, I let it resonate a second longer and admitted, "True."

"And besides, it's Bonnie," she continued, choosing not to linger on her previous point as she poured water into the top of the coffee maker and shoved the pot into the front. "The three of us have been getting into fights since we met. It's one of the luxuries of knowing someone forever… we're pretty much family at this point. And it's impossible to stay mad at family. That's why I never sugar coat things and tell it to you straight."

Caroline finally stopped fumbling with the coffee maker to hone her grey-blue eyes onto mine. They were no longer hazy from the sleep she'd just stepped out of as she threw on her 'no bullshit' face and directed, "That being said… are you gonna tell me what last night was all about?"

"What about last night? I replied innocently, finding the perfect opportunity to divert from those eyes and grab the hazelnut creamer from the fridge.

"I don't know," she started with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "Maybe the part where you showed up at my house a hysterical mess last night and threw out that you made a mistake by breaking things off with Damon. Or maybe the frantic packing you did when we got here and you decided you'd made the right choice. Or maybe even the twenty times you stopped packing and started again as you kept flip flopping."

Oh right, that.

"Yeah," I drawled sympathetically, setting the creamer onto the counter and doing everything in my power to avoid the judgment streaming from my best friends fierce stare. "Tell Tyler I'm sorry about that would you?"

"He's fine," she dismissed with a swipe of her hand. "We still have another week before I leave and I'm sure there's a way I can make it up to him so I can reap the benefits as well."

There was a mischievous little twinkle in her eyes when I supported, "I'm _sure_ you can."

Caroline's brows flicked exuberantly towards the ceiling before we both fell into a comfortable roll of giggles. After the mess I'd been last night, the purity and ease of the moment was refreshing. Unfortunately, it lasted only a second before Caroline got back down to business.

The coffee pot chimed right when Caroline's giggles ceased. And after she'd poured us each a steaming hot cup and we took seats at the table, she interrogated, "But, Elena, be straight with me. What the hell was last night about?"

I released a long, deep sigh as the onslaught of my feelings from last night once again rose to the surface. They were confusing, frantic, and completely opposing the other.

"I don't know," I confessed, shaking my head to clear the bombarding and conflicting emotions. Nothing happened. Everything was still there, and my previous headache was beginning to worsen by the second. It felt split just like I was – straight down the freaking center.

"I just… I don't know, Care," I shouted, needing to release just some of the tension building in side of me. It offered momentary relief that I took advantage of by lowering my voice and admitting, "Breaking things off seemed like the right choice when it happened, but it wasn't supposed to hurt this much afterwards."

It wasn't supposed to feel like saying goodbye to Damon meant saying goodbye to half of my heart, or a limb, because that was certainly how it felt.

"We talked about this months ago," she reasoned gently, reaching forward to grab hold of my arm. "You already knew saying goodbye was going to be difficult."

I nodded, remembering the conversation we'd shared at _Frederick's_ when she'd pointed out that I was already emotionally invested in Damon. That was months ago. If only I'd anticipated and planned for how much that attachment was going to grow.

"I just never thought it would be _this_ difficult," I confessed, pulling my hand back from her grasp to rub the throbbing pain behind my eyes.

"So, are you telling me you're changing your mind again?" she questioned evenly, no hint as to whether she preferred one answer over the other.

Without missing a beat, my head shook back and forth as I claimed, "No." I was ending things for a reason. I had to stick with the plan I'd already established. But damnit if it didn't hurt.

"Yes," I amended, focusing on the ache and my heart. My head refused to give up as it released an onslaught of rational thoughts to counterbalance what was happening in my chest. Each part of me was pulling in a different direction, demanding a different outlook and outcome on the current situation and I couldn't have been more frustrated.

"I don't know," I corrected, less than a second after my previous answer. And before I could help myself, the swirl of thoughts twisting and yanking and clashing in my head came trailing out of my mouth. "I meant what I said to him about change and who I am and who I'm becoming. There are things I need to do on my own. I need to meet new people, open myself up and trust the way that I didn't allow before and get a taste for new things because up until this point he's the only one I've done it with. And yeah, it sucks leaving him, but if I don't and I keep us both tethered to that imaginary line while we live in separate places then were both miserable. He'll be stuck here because of the bar and I'll come home every weekend cause I miss him so much. All of my time will be focused on him, not on college and the experience I want."

I paused, pulling in a deep rush of air to regulate my breathing after the long strain of sentences I'd just thrown out onto my best friend. Then my eyes shifted onto hers. They were watching me intently, hanging on every word I was throwing her, when I admitted, "But then there's my biggest fear."

"What's that?" she urged.

"I'm terrified that at this point, I go back to college and no matter what, I won't get the experience I want because even if I'm with him or not, he won't be there. And that'll make all of the difference," I confessed, feeling it deep down in the marrow of my bones.

At this point, I couldn't see another outcome other than that one. But time had a way of healing all wounds. Sure, my heart still had a few dents from my parents, but I was doing okay. I was operating on a decent level now and maybe after time, that healing process would happen with Damon's mark too.

"Elena, I can't tell you which choice is the right one to make," Caroline said, sympathy shadowing the typically youthful gleam of her expression.

"I know you can't, I'm just asking your advice," I stated.

She shot me a small smile and cocked her head to the side. "Well, I'm biased, you know. I've liked Damon from the start and if you stick with him, I'll get to see you more. Plus, I'm the eternal optimist with a firm belief that long distance can work. Otherwise, I wouldn't be trying it myself." Her smile stretched a bit further onto her cheeks when she referenced her own relationship, but almost immediately after, it disappeared. "But on the other hand, you've been wanting to get out of this town for years and Damon's not going anywhere. And you're on this life path that no one but you really understands."

Her eyes bore into me as all of her points sank in. I'd already known them; already used them against each other last night in my internal battle over which choice to make. Hearing them come from Caroline only reasserted that they were valid.

She sighed at the obvious struggle on my face and said, "What I'm trying to say is that I can list off reasons for why each side is the right one, but only you can make the decision and either way it's going to hurt. I read in a poem once that people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. And you're at that crossroad when you need to decide if it was just the first two or the last."

Holy fuck. I'd been so occupied in figuring out whether staying with Damon was the right choice to make for me now that I hadn't even considered our future. That brought on a whole new level of insecurities and gut churning indecision.

At the introduction of a whole new component in my decision making process, I released a hysterical laugh. It didn't make sense, and I felt a whole lot of crazy, but all of the thoughts and choices were just too much. I had to get it out somehow.

Caroline watched in bewilderment as my laughter subsided a little and with an arm wrapped around my tummy to keep all of its contents at bay, I pointed out, "Caroline, if you were trying to make this easier, you've failed."

She took offense instantly, but at the sound of more laughter coming from my throat, she released a giggle of her own and shrugged. "Sorry, I've been practicing for school. I guess I _did_ get a bit dramatic there."

Dramatic was an understatement. I mean, she threw out a metaphor with crossroads involved. Still, there was definite truth in her metaphor that I couldn't dismiss.

With a swipe of my hand under my eye to catch the moisture building in the corner, I released one last giggle and declared, "Well yeah, now you've got me thinking about the future and all _that_ entails."

Noticing the rapid change in our atmosphere, Caroline went straight back into supportive best friend mode to point out, "Elena, you're deciding if you want to try a long distance relationship. People don't waste the effort on those if they aren't thinking about the future."

"I don't know what I want for that either," I admitted almost breathlessly, all traces of our previously light atmosphere gone.

Her lips curled up into a small compassionate smile before she swept me into a hug. The weight of her chin on my shoulder was nothing compared to the weight of my indecision when she stated, "Then my words of advice to you are to see what happens when he gets here. Stop over-thinking this or you're gonna give yourself a heart attack. If it's meant to happen, your gut will tell you when he gets here."

"Maybe you're right," I commended, appreciating the thought of an option that cleared my head; even if it was just for an hour or so before Damon showed up. Because she had a point. I could beat myself up, going around in circles all morning, or I could just follow my gut. I just had to trust it.

"Of course I am," Caroline chided, pulling away to offer me a quick glance at her confident smirk before it slid from her lips. "I'll back any choice you make. But, Elena, just make sure that whatever decision you choose, _you_ stand firmly behind it. Otherwise, that uncertainty is going to eat away at you and destroy that chance of either choice being the right one."

I nodded in response, accepting that reality, as I placed all of my faith in my gut and its ability to make the correct decision.

Unfortunately, it never got the chance to prove itself.

After we packed the last few bags of my stuff into my car, shared a tearful – way too difficult – goodbye where we each promised to phone every day, and Caroline demanded I text her as soon as I got back to Richmond safely, I waited on the front porch for Damon to show up.

When my phone read quarter til eleven, that nagging feeling that he wasn't coming started to creep up my neck.

It swept down my spine and into my legs when it read ten til eleven.

And when the digital numbers on my phone glared eleven on the dot, the disappointing reality had settled deep through my entire body: he wasn't coming.

It'd been gradual, not a swift kick or sudden gut punch, but that did little to soften the blow. He _really_ wasn't coming.

My eyes went hazy and my heart pulsed in my ears, but I refused to be that girl. I wasn't going to fall apart on my front porch for everyone to see because I wasn't able to say goodbye. Yeah, it sucked being stripped of that, but I'd survive. It wasn't like I hadn't been stripped of the luxury before. And despite my established departure time, I remained on the porch swing, but not to give him more time. No. I was devising reasons for why this supported the choice I would have made anyway. Because I would have - surely.

Not all summer romances lasted, actually most didn't. Damon had definitely been something special and he'd come right when I needed him, but maybe he'd just come for the purpose of showing me what life had to offer when you let it in. It had been one hell of a season, but all seasons had to end and despite letting go of Damon, I at least had a growing family I now appreciated that I could hold on to.

I'd made my choice last night and his absence just made it all the more certain that I'd made the right one. This way it was easier.

That reassuring thought drifted like fog through my mind as my eyes lingered on my aunt's house, studying its architecture. At an earlier point, the mere sight of it would have filled my head with nostalgic thoughts of my parents and the desperate need to get away, but not after this summer. Now all I saw was the potential it held for starting a family, complete with photographs and finger paintings done by the young soul I couldn't wait to enter this world.

With one last look and a grateful smile on my face, I whispered to my house that I'd be back soon and walked to my car. I'd just sat down when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Lifting it to get a clearer view of the words and their sender, I sighed seeing it was from Damon.

_I'm sorry, but I can't make it. Have a good trip and I'll call you later to explain._

He was fifteen minutes late and he was a definite no show, but at least now I knew he was okay. My thumb lingered on the letters of his name a few seconds longer, before I threw the phone into my purse and started up the car. I had two stops to make before I reached school and each was going to be difficult. The last thing I needed was to be thinking about Damon. The issue of will we or wont we had been solved. I'd made my choice, his absence had solidified it was the right one and I planned on standing firmly behind that decision.

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><p>If someone had told me months ago that visiting my parents would be the easier of two visits, I would have laughed in their face. Yet, it appeared that was the case today. To my surprise, this morning's visit had been inexplicably easier than the last time Damon – literally - dragged me before their grave. But I guess it made sense. A cut hurts the worst when it happens; every moment after that gets a little easier and easier as the wound begins to heal.<p>

The visit had been short and my words had been direct as I told them exactly what I thought they deserved to hear. That I was sorry for not visiting more, that I was confident I'd make them proud of the daughter they'd rose, and that I'd be back soon. And after placing a bouquet of fresh red roses against the front of their tombstone and a kiss against the top, I'd headed off towards the second destination of today's line-up.

My fingers tapped nervously against the side of my legs and I bit my bottom lip as I waited anxiously at one of the visitor's tables for Stefan to emerge. When I called his mother to get the information, I'd been much more confident about this portion of my day. She'd been all over the place when we'd spoken, ranging from shock to sympathy to downright wonder, and after only a few short minutes, I'd obtained the name of the prison holding Stefan.

Now, as I focused on keeping my breathing coming out in steady succession and my pulse rate under control, I was second guessing the decision to come. It'd been three years since I'd seen his face and we hadn't spoken a single word to each other since the night he destroyed my life. I'd finally forgiven him and this seemed like the necessary step to take in order to continue my growth. But feeling something on the inside and admitting it out loud are two entirely different things.

And as I watched the seconds hand on the standard wall clock tick by, my confidence and determination behind being here and saying the correct things had pretty much trickled down to nothing. What the hell was I going to say? Were my eyes going to contradict my words if I managed to keep them civilized? Would all of the anger I'd held in over the years suddenly rise to the surface and get the best of me?

My anxiety had just hit an unsurpassed level when the steel door swished open before me. Stefan emerged first with his wrists bound together and a guard walking only inches behind him, guiding him by a grip on the shoulder. And despite all of the fears I had and every thought churning in my head, time seemed to slow down for a moment as his eyes landed on his visitor.

The hazel eyes I'd gazed upon countless instances in the past and feared from my nightmares held none of the life I'd remembered. They were dull, no longer bright, vivid, and full of wonder. Bags hugged the rim underneath and coffee colored facial hair covered most of his chiseled features. The person before me was still Stefan, just an altered version tarnished by the repercussions of a life-changing bad choice. And I felt nothing but sadness as our eyes remained locked; not the love we used to share or the rage I'd been waiting years to release in his direction. Just a heavy batch of sorrow.

Stefan's mouth fell slightly ajar as the guard edged him closer to the table. No words were exchanged as Stefan continued to stare – like I ran the risk of disappearing if he blinked his eyes – and the guard lowered him to take a seat. Feeling uncomfortable, I felt blood begin to rush beneath my cheeks under the unwavering heat of Stefan's gawking when, finally, he snapped out of it and blinked.

The tiny break had the wind rushing back through my lungs and my fingers relaxing on my lap.

"You're here," he whispered to his own lap.

"I know," I replied, nodding despite the fact that he wasn't looking at me. Was he ashamed? I knew this was difficult, but I never imagined the tension would feel this thick. "It took me a long time."

Stefan sighed and shook his head before finally lifting his eyes up to mine. "After what I did, I never thought you'd come."

My thumbs fumbled together in my lap as I admitted, "Either did I."

The silence that followed was awkward as it stretched and filled the entire contents of the room. I'd come here for a very distinct reason, but now I had no idea how to blurt it out.

"How are you?" he asked, I guess feeling the need for meaningless chit chat as we both avoided the topic we knew I'd come here to finally address.

"I'm okay." It was the truth. I wasn't terrible, I wasn't great. I was somewhere smack dab in the middle, but it was only a matter of time before I moved myself up to someplace better.

"And you?" I asked because it felt like the appropriate thing to say, only to feel like an idiot. It was obvious how he was; I mean, he was living in a damn prison.

He noticed the distress on my face immediately and to my surprise, he let out a low laugh and held up his shackled hands, further proving what I already knew – his life sucked.

"I know, silly question," I admonished, shaking my head back and forth as embarrassment flooded my cheeks.

I was still shaking my head and trying to figure out what meaningless topic to throw out next, when Stefan decided to bypass the bullshit. "Elena," he started along with a deep breath. The sudden change of his tone and the sympathy pouring behind his eyes had my entire body alert. "I've rethought what I'd say to you a million times. It's all I seemed to do for the first year. And the what if's destroyed me. You have to know, if I could go back and change that night and what I did, I would. It's all I ever think about."

"I know," I softly confessed because I did. And frankly, with the mention of that night my emotions were becoming an issue and it was the best I could get out without shedding tears.

"Guilt's a prison all on its own, Elena," he declared. I blinked, fighting to keep myself under control for this conversation because it needed to happen and I couldn't become a hysterical mess. I could handle this, I could.

At my silence, he inched slightly forward and pleaded, "I just… I need you to know how sorry I am for that night. I've wanted to tell you that so many times. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you or your family."

And I knew that now. It'd taken me a hell of a long time to sift through my views on that night, but I knew every word he was saying was true. They weren't solely for the benefit of making me feel better. The guy before me had loved me, perhaps he still did, and the guilt he'd been feeling ever since that night had clearly taken its toll. It was present in those devastating eyes of his and the sag in his figure. That night and this place had eaten him alive.

"I do know you're sorry. In a way I always have, but I was too blinded by my anger to acknowledge it," I confessed.

"I understand," he interjected, shifting his eyes to his lap once again.

"No, Stefan, please listen to me," I demanded because I'd come here for this moment and it was happening. There was no way in hell I was letting his eyes deviate anywhere but mine. "I came here to tell you that: yes, it's taken me a really long time to get this point. But I know the type of person you are and you did everything you could for them that night. It was easier to ignore that, but I won't do it anymore."

Confusion creases appeared in the center of his forehead when I took a deep breath and reasoned, "You made a mistake and I forgive you for it. I won't ever forget that it happened, but I can forgive you."

Silence fell over us once again as I waited for his response. His eyes glassed over, revealing how significant the impact of my words had been before he breathed out a heartfelt, "Thank you."

The haziness of his eyes and the array of emotions flying through them had me a feeling a bit uncomfortable. So I shrugged my shoulders and defended, "You needed to hear it and I had to say it."

"No, really," he stressed, inching forward a little bit closer so I could see the full effects of my words. "Thank you."

Gratitude and astonishment were alive on his face and before I could help it, satisfaction snaked through me. I'd finally said the words that cut the last remaining ties to my past and I was ready to move on. And in the process, I'd hopefully helped Stefan defeat a few of his demons. It hadn't been easy, the moment hadn't been perfect, but it was finally over.

With a small smile gracing my lips at my accomplishment, I nodded and replied earnestly, "You're welcome."

"You're different than you were before," he noted as I reached for my purse and started to lift from the seat.

"Well," I responded with a shrug, "life changed." Obviously. Shit happens, people adapt; it was the way the world worked. Of course I'd changed since the last time he saw me. My parents had died.

"Yeah," he muttered, rolling his eyes at his own clarification mistake, "but that's not what I'm talking about."

"A lot's happened lately," I vaguely dismissed with a shrug before lifting myself self from my seat. It was one thing to tackle a difficult discussion with Stefan in order to move on, but talking about Damon, this summer or what happened during it that led to me changing was absolutely off limits.

Thankfully, he got the hint and didn't pry further. Instead he just nodded, and replied, "If it's what brought you here, then I'm glad it happened."

And despite the past few days and the heartbreak, uncertainty, and general mess of saying goodbye to Damon, I had to agree. Because without him or the journey he'd taken me on this summer, this moment would have never happened. Meeting him and letting myself feel something besides anger again – even if it wasn't always pleasant – was something I'd never regret.

So I smiled and said, "Me too."

* * *

><p>I didn't make it to school until well after eight that night. When I pulled up, the parking lot was already filled with empty cars from students eager to unload their belongings and get back to the whirlwind of student life. As for me, I was just happy to get out of my car.<p>

But before I started unloading my stuff and being the dutiful best friend that I was, I swiped my cell out of my purse to text Caroline that I'd made it. What I saw had my body stiffening like I'd just been drenched in a sea of ice water.

There was a missed call and voicemail from Damon, which I'd missed because I'd forgotten to turn my phone off silent after saying goodbye to Stefan. And without giving myself time to fret over what it said and the possible effect it would have on my surprisingly decent mood, I clicked listen.

His voice sounded through the tiny speaker, caressing my ear shell and slowly consuming my body with warmth.

_I know you're probably not picking up because you're angry with me and I understand. But I've never really been good with giving out goodbyes. You get it. When people get taken from you the way they have with us, you see the importance behind keeping up with those that come into your life. It's why I still keep in touch with everyone I've met over the years._

_I'm sorry that I couldn't show up today and I left you waiting. This just seemed like the easier route, for both of us. I hope you didn't wait too long. But I spent my morning with Katherine. And I think you'll be proud to hear that although I can't bring myself to say goodbye to you, I did with her. But I won't bore you with the details, just know that I did and feel smug for a minute._

_Hopefully you had a safe trip back and you won't stay mad at me forever. You have to admit, things always sound better when left opened ended anyway. _

_So, yeah, I'll see you around, Elena, because I will._

My eyes were hazy when I pulled the phone from my ear and clicked delete. If I didn't, I knew I'd replay the message over and over until I'd memorized it word for word. They were already repeating as I took a minute to stare out of my car window. Lights were on in nearly every window and one of them on the third floor held my new roommate, the one – hopefully - eagerly awaiting my arrival. Surely, I was one of the last students to arrive today and I'd already made her wait too long.

But getting out of the car made everything final: forgiving Stefan, accepting this was the place I was supposed to be, saying goodbye to my summer and – in a way – to Damon. It was a big step, one that had the hairs on the back of my neck standing in full alert over its importance, but I couldn't sit here and over-analyze the situation anymore.

I looked down at my phone and first texted Caroline and then after a moment's hesitation, I decided to text Damon. Calling him would have resulted in tears, more indecision, and yearning that I just wasn't equipped to handle. My fingers tapped quickly over the letters of my keypad and once they were finished, I pulled the phone slightly back to make sure the message was just right.

_I'm not mad at you and I've always been proud of you. There's nothing you could ever do to change that because of the way you changed me._

_Thank you for the summer._

As I read it to back there was no doubt in my mind that he'd understand the importance of such a simple last line. It was only five words, but to me, they meant everything.

I clicked send, feeling the significance of the text as it floated into the airwaves and back to Mystic Falls. Then I exited my car, knowing that single action shut the door on my summer and opened it to the possibilities of the new me and what that meant for me here. And I was okay with that, because as I did, Damon's words of an open ending sounded in my head.

Because, apparently, even when your head makes a choice, some voices don't need to be saved electronically when they're already stored in your heart.

* * *

><p><em><strong>The End.<strong>_

**No, totally kidding. We're very and I mean **_**very**_** close to the end, but we're not quite there yet. I wouldn't do that to you guys! However, I do apologize for the lack of Damon and Elena scenes in this chapter.**

**For those of you who follow me on twitter and inquired about the person I was writing that I hate… well, can you figure it out yet? If you guessed Stefan, then yes, you were correct. It's not that I hated writing him in this fic since the scene was actually a pretty civil one; I just hate writing him in general. Hence the reason he's always missing in most chapters of my fics. But he was essential for that scene and I gritted my teeth, kept it really freaking short, and got through it. Hopefully it was easier for you to read that it was for me to write.**

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

_Follow me on Twitter and Tumblr: morvamp_


	25. Chapter 25

**Yep, I say it every time, but you guys are amazing and that's something that should always be repeated. I have so much love for each and every one of you and your lovely reviews. Really, I do. That support really got me through writing this chapter.**

**A hurricane ripped through my state and although I was safe, I went quite a few days without power, which made it difficult to actually find the time to sit down and write this thing. Once I did, nothing came out right. I've had difficult chapters before, but none have beaten this one. I have reworked this sucker more times than I can count and I'm still not 100% sure it's where I want it to be, but I fear that if I continue to pick at it, I'll end up destroying it.**

**Hopefully this is just me being paranoid about my writing, which I have a serious problem being, and it packs the punch and says the things that I want it to.**

**Big thanks to my friend Mirna for looking over this thing for me. I've rewritten a bit since you've looked at it, but I wouldn't feel confident enough to post this if it weren't for your amazing purple commentary.**

_**Hope you like the chapter. **_

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><p>"Did you kick its ass or what?" Caroline's perky voiced sounded through the speaker of my cell as I made my way down the hallway towards my dorm room. In my hand rested my target audience &amp; strategies exam I'd spent the past three nights studying for.<p>

"Solid A-," I replied smugly, a satisfied grin clipping my lips towards my eyes.

An exuberant giggle sounded on the other end of the line before she boasted, "You, my friend, are a marketing genius."

My pride swelled instantly at her compliment. I'd only been back for six weeks and I'd just started my first set of business marketing courses, but while writing made my brain ache, the facts and logic behind marketing felt like a breeze. It appeared I'd finally found my niche, but I wasn't about to get ahead of myself.

"We can establish that title when I graduate and leave the classroom," I retorted before switching the topic of our discussion over to her. "But how about you? How did Improv go today? And do I need to get a signature yet?"

"You're hilarious," she deadpanned, although I could practically feel her smile through the line, "which means you would have probably done a hell of a better job today than I did."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," I reasoned.

"Yeah, I'm being dramatic, but it comes with the 20 hour a day rehearsals. I'm starting to blur real life and school," she explained, putting everything she had into her pity performance before insisting, "Which is why you're heading back to Mystic Falls this weekend."

"Is that so?" I questioned coolly, by no means attempting to counter her offer of heading back to our home town. I'd already been back twice to meet up with Caroline, visit Jenna, her growing tummy, and Ric. Both trips had been enjoyable so I had no issues with driving the distance a third time.

"Yes," she claimed. "I need a break, you need a celebration drink for acing yet another exam, and both of us should be there for Damon's opening."

Scratch that, I only had _one_ issue with heading back.

"Caroline, I'm not sure that's a great idea," I debated, already feeling the effects of simply hearing Damon's name spoken out loud. For the first time in weeks, the self-inflicted puncture in my chest seemed to increase in size – expanding into a gaping hole.

For the most part, I'd been doing just fine; excelling in my chosen field, participating in events, opening myself up and making new friends. All the while keeping a level head. I didn't drift to the past much, but I also didn't lock it away and hide it from others. It was a part of me, one I'd accepted and one that had shaped me.

But on the other hand, the reason behind that acceptance of my past still lingered within. Damon's presence wasn't holding me back or keeping me from the life I wanted, not like the loss of my parents had. It just lingered - ever present in the back of my mind – as I maneuvered myself from day to day. A constant reminder that without him and the summer we'd shared, I wouldn't be the stable, successful me that I was.

"He might not even want me there," I tried to reason because it was a possibility. And also because although I'd stood firmly behind my choice of letting him go, I wasn't necessarily ready to see him. Insecurities over what that would do to the settled yet fragile state of my heart were still a factor. It was very possible that after one look, my resolve would crumble and the person I'd so diligently worked towards becoming here would crumble as well.

"Do you think I'm stupid enough to ask you without asking him first?" Caroline asked incredulously.

It'd been a rhetorical question, one that didn't need my answer. And yet, I threw it out anyway. "Maybe." I blamed it on the uncertainty coursing swiftly through my veins and the warming effect the mere mention of Damon's name supplied my body.

Caroline scoffed and declared, "I'm gonna let that one slide for the sake of missing you so much."

"Elena," a third party shouted from behind me.

Swiveling my head to take a look at the intruder, I saw a familiar boyish face and unkempt brown hair heading my way.

"Hold on a second, Care," I instructed, pulling the phone from my ear just as Kol reached my side. He was a third year like me and we'd met a few weeks prior in my second Introduction to Economics class. A friendship had quickly developed and for that I was thankful. Without him, I'm not sure how long it would have taken for me to grasp the concepts: opportunity costs, tradeoff, and marginal benefits.

"Hey, Kol. How's it going?"

"Pretty good, but it could be even better," he answered, sporting the most adorable little grin on his lips. "I just got handed two tickets to see _The Killers_ tonight at _The National_."

"That's insane," I gasped, before he flipped out two legit tickets. They were sleek, glossy, and 100% desirable. "The show's been sold out for weeks."

"Yep," he agreed with a satisfied flip of his brows, "but since I have an extra ticket, I was thinking maybe you'd want to go with me. We could make a date out of it."

My mouth threatened to drop open as the downfall regarding friendships and making new ones reared its ugly head. I hadn't asked for this, never even thought to prepare myself for it, but there was optimism shining in his bronze eyes that I suddenly had to squash.

My disinterest had nothing to do with past cages of protection around my heart or even his appearance and personality. As a matter of fact, most eyes seemed to linger on Kol's charming good looks and he had a genuine, yet spunky, nature to enhance the assets he was born with. But that spark just wasn't there on my end. I didn't drown in the hue of his baby blues, my fingers didn't pine to dive into the locks of his hair, and my laughter didn't come out quite as loud at his jokes.

Apparently, after spending a summer with someone who's lasting effect could only be comparable with the blinding rays of technicolor, everyone that followed seemed to dull a bit into shades of grey.

"I'm sorry," I explained, pouring regret into my chocolate irises, "but I'm heading home this weekend. I can't make it." He didn't need to know that my decision about home was still yet to be decided.

"That's cool," he responded with an easy shrug. "Some other time then."

There was hope still present on his features that I wasn't sure I could ever placate, but for the sake of slipping out of the conversation without entering uncomfortable territory, I offered, "Maybe."

He accepted my offer with a quick nod and headed down the hallway, leaving me and my guilty conscious standing in the hallway. That is, until I pulled my phone back to my ear just in time to hear Caroline squeal, "Elena Gilbert, was that a hot guy I just heard you deny?"

With a roll of my eyes, I deadpanned, "Yes, you heard me decline my friend Kol."

A gasp sounded on her end before she chastised, "He's gorgeous and you're crazy, you know that right?"

"No, I just don't have the time to date anyone right now," I disputed, before picking up the pace and heading back in the direction of my dorm. "And wait, you know him?"

"He was in my Calculus class last year, but that's not important," she dismissed. "What is, is that I'm starting to see the real reason why you don't want to come tonight."

"Don't even go there, Caroline," I groaned, already feeling the weight of her judgment, accusations, and next words before they'd already been spoken.

"I'm just saying…"

"And I'm hanging up," I chimed back.

Caroline paused for about one second before rushing out, "What's the point of breaking up with Damon if you refuse to date anyone else?"

"The point is me. It's always been about me," I exasperated as my foot breached my dorm room and I took a step inside. Irritation rushed through me over the fact that my best friend was incapable of leaving a situation rest without tossing her insight into the mix. She'd assured me before that she was perfectly fine with my decision to break things off with Damon and her present remarks and comments were completely unnecessary.

"Fine," she submitted, picking up on my tone. "Then please have _you_ show up tonight. I'm singing on stage and I'd really like you to be there to support me."

"You sing now?" I questioned, locking eyes with my roommate, Meredith, who was currently sitting in front of the computer – probably doing research for her next paper on the potential social effects of child abuse or something along those lines.

_Caroline_, I mouthed in my roomie's direction resulting in an understanding nod before she swiveled back around to her computer screen.

"I'm a jack of all trades," Caroline mused, "but I can't be my best self without you in the crowd."

There'd been an innocent little shift in her voice as she verbally whipped out the best friend card. And I had to roll my eyes, because as much as I didn't want to see Damon or endure the effects sharing a night with him could generate, I had to support Caroline. She'd have done the same for me.

"Alright, then I'll go to Damon's opening," I conceded, already hating myself and my damn loyalty. Tonight was sure to bite me in the ass and if that were the case, I needed to make sure Caroline knew it was her fault. She was the only one who could persuade me to go through with this. "For you."

"Fabulous. See you tonight," she responded enthusiastically. "And Elena?"

"Yeah?"

"Maybe it won't be as hard as you think," she offered sympathetically.

At that, I had to laugh. If anything, tonight was sure to be even harder than what I'd already envisioned. I knew what Damon's presence did to me, the power his body held over mine, and I could only hope that influence had faded. But I wasn't about to hold my breath.

"And maybe Jenna will pop out quadruplets," I retorted before hitting end.

"Who's Damon?" Meredith asked, swiveling around in her chair to pin me under her inquiring stare. She had light-brown strands of hair that cut off at her shoulders, a soft shade of rose on her plumped cheeks, and warm brown eyes that typically made me feel at ease. But not when she stared at me the way she was.

"Just the owner of the bar I'm headed to tonight," I dismissed, avoiding her heated spotlight as I redirected my attention to tossing my phone and books onto my twin bed.

But she wasn't that easy to shake. "Are you sure that's it?"

There was no point in trying to lie to her. Meredith was wicked smart, studying to get her PhD in Psychology, focusing heavily on the specialized field of social psychology, which meant she had my 2 years left to get her degrees plus quite a bit more. It also meant she could pin point the signs whenever my emotions went a little haywire and consistently insisted on digging into my personal life.

The old me would have shriveled away from her persistent disregard of my personal space, but the new me accepted her as a challenge. One that – up until this point – I'd been passing with flying colors. We were decent friends and I'd allowed her to indulge into my past, my summer and scrutinize the way both had affected me – as long as she kept her opinions and observations to herself.

"He's the guy from this summer," I finally admitted with an exhausting sigh when I realized it was better to just answer her upfront instead of continuing the endless inquisition she had in store. She knew about Damon, how he'd shaped me, but she'd never heard his name. I'd simply kept him labeled _the guy from my summer_.

"So now I finally have a name for this mystery guy of yours," she observed, seemingly delighted over this new bit of information.

"Yes," I confessed through clenched teeth, "but can we not really get into it? I need a solid hour to mentally prepare myself for this opening."

She said nothing in response, which I took as my cue to flop onto my bed, successfully ending our discussion regarding my ex. But I could feel her eyes still on me, unwavering as I tried to outlast her will. Unfortunately, I gave in first and when my head swiveled in her direction, Meredith's eyes were already waiting to lock onto mine.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I accused.

With her eyes still boring into me, she cocked her head to the side and replied, "Because it's the first time I've ever heard you use his name."

"So?" I defended, snapping my body into an upright position so my feet dangled over the edge of the bed.

"So," she drawled, pulling my curiosity along with the stretch of the word, before declaring, "It's just the way you said it. That's all."

I knew what she was doing. It was the therapist in her that was forcing me into this game, but I was incapable of resisting. My curiosity over her analysis had spiked too high. "How did I say it?"

For the briefest second, I could have sworn the edges of her lips contorted into a satisfied smirk before they dropped back into a thin line. "You know how you said it and it's different than when you say Jenna or Caroline or Ric or any of the other people you left behind when you came back here."

She waited for me to chime in and accept what I already knew, what I'd kept locked inside so the devastating truth could just linger instead of haunting me every night and tarnish the relationships I'd established here. But I remained silent because it was so much easier for her to come to the conclusion on her own without me having to admit the words out loud, much like it was easier to call Damon _the guy from my summer_ instead of using his real name. It made him more of a story than an authentic counter-part to my blissful existence.

When it became obvious she was going to have to pull this train up to the station on her own, Meredith continued, "It was the longing - the distance in your voice - when you said 'Damon' that gave his identity away instantly. Because even if you won't admit it your voice exposes the admiration for you."

Her eyes had released the hold of mine during her conclusions, drifting towards the ceiling as if she was deep in thought. There was a nonchalance about her that was almost unfathomable considering the heightened state of my nerves.

"Can we stop analyzing my life, please?" I interjected, resisting the urge to literally throw my hands over my ears. I couldn't do this right now, not when I was hours away from coming face to face with Damon. The experience was going to be difficult enough without having to dig up what I'd previously buried so far below.

"You love him," she declared, ignoring the plead in my voice. I knew she'd picked up on it, she picked up everything, and although I truly liked the girl sitting before me, I now wanted to shove a sock firmly into her mouth.

"So what?" I shouted back, feeling that pent up adrenaline and anger building within suddenly spill out with my words. "I love him. It doesn't change anything. I'm still here, he's still there. Distance is still a factor and so is everything else."

Meredith didn't flinch at my heightened tone. Instead, her eyes dropped and she leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her knees, as though this simple maneuver could capture and tame the overwhelmed creature I'd suddenly become. Then she hit me with a harsh bit of truth. "Then why doesn't your argument sound convincing anymore?"

Miraculously, the words that escaped didn't come out rushed or deafening. They were soft confessions I no longer had the energy to ponder over on my own. "Because I thought I'd feel something stronger than what I do now. That each day I'd notice my change a little bit more and I'd get pride from that and know - without a single doubt - that I was this new me, the one I'd been aiming to be, making the right decisions. But I still feel like myself; the same old me that bumped into you when I carried my first load of clothes through the door."

"Have you ever thought that maybe you already liked the person you'd become when you got here? Or that you're looking for that sense of contentment in the wrong place?" Meredith rationalized before leaning back in her chair. This time, I was confident a smile slipped momentarily over her lips, before she hid it and got back down to business. "Or maybe, just maybe all of these issues regarding this new you simply stem from the fact that after everything Damon's done to transform you into this person, you're afraid you'll end up disappointing him. So you're making excuses for why it won't work."

At the sound of her words, my jaw went slack. I'd heard her reasons, had mentally acknowledged them as she called them out, but seemed to freeze when she reached her end.

"What was the last phrase you just said?" I questioned in shock or wonder or maybe it was even embarrassment as the truth started to set in.

Meredith's nose scrunched in uncertainty when she clarified, "You're making excuses for why it won't work?"

Excuses. I could almost feel Damon's velvety voice as it slipped into my mind and produce goose bumps along the surface of my skin. He'd pointed it out to me before, known I was making excuses to cover up the real reasons I didn't think we could last, understood what we shared and knew we were capable of surviving something as simple as distance. But my fear - the very thing he'd been helping me control this summer- had kept me from acknowledging the truth.

Fear crippled you, limited you, and tainted relationships. I didn't believe him, was too stubborn to acknowledge it when he'd tried to get me to understand in the beginning. Now, after hearing it again from Meredith, I couldn't disregard that nagging truth. Instead I saw it in glaring clarity.

I was still letting my fear manipulate my choices.

Although Damon had helped me crumble the assembly of guidelines I'd created over fears from my past, I'd rebuilt a new wall to protect myself from him and the fears of what potentially came next. I hadn't created rules this time; I'd locked him out entirely. All because there was an enduring possibility that I wouldn't be enough for him, that eventually I might shatter the image he had of me. And it'd seemed easier to cut myself off before he had the opportunity to leave me, hurting me all over again.

That possibility wasn't going to fade. I still wasn't sure I could live up to the picture of me he'd painted in his mind, especially if it compared anything to the one I held for him. But I didn't want to do this anymore. I wouldn't continue this downward spiral of events by blackening the effects of our summer with the fear he'd helped me initially escape. I wouldn't sit back and let something as meaningless as fear obliterate everything good that came into my life. Not any longer. I couldn't. Not when that good thing I'd let go of was Damon.

I frowned considering how patient he'd been through all of this, how understanding he'd been when I fed him the bullshit I'd honestly believed in his room. He'd seen right through it, just like I did now. Of that, I was confident. And I couldn't believe that it had taken me this long to understand that in protecting myself, I wasn't just hurting me but him as well. And that was something I just couldn't allow.

I was done making excuses. Done pretending that this better version of myself actually stood true without him by the side.

So tonight, I'd finally make amends and do what I should have done six weeks ago. I'd overlook my past, my future, and any fears in order to make a decision on my own.

Meredith's eyes were open wide, waiting for some form of acknowledgment from me after her accusations. Honestly, I had no idea how long she'd been sitting there waiting on me as my resolve strengthened, but she didn't need to wait any longer.

"You should really reconsider your field, you know that? I understand you're more about the research, but you'd be one hell of a personal therapist," I praised, feeling an actual smile tugging at my lips. And this time, it wasn't manufactured or forced like I suddenly realized my others had been. I was actually feeling true excitement. "How long have you been waiting to give me this mini-session of yours?"

"Since the first week when you told me about your summer. Your denial has been killing me," she retorted, smile lines crinkling the edges of her eyes.

"I should pay you," I chided.

"No," she refuted with a shake of her head and quick round of laughter. "You should just take me with you tonight."

"I have an even better idea. But I'm gonna need your help," I admitted, pulling my lips into an even tighter smile. It seemed incapable of slipping from my face, but I guess that had something to do with my decision and the fact that this time I _truly_ stood behind it.

Or maybe it had everything to do with the fact that my head and my heart were finally on the same side.

* * *

><p>Packing Damon's bar on the night of its opening seemed like the perfect gesture. He'd spent countless days diligently working to get the thing ready for tonight and after only a few hours online, I'd planned on making it a success. It was the least I could do after everything he'd done for me.<p>

When I'd established the plan, it'd seemed like a certified success. Meredith designed a simple little event flyer, I paid a charter bus for transportation, and together we posted the event onto prime websites. Social media was the quickest, cheapest, and most effective means of marketing an event, especially considering our time frame and the college audience I was aiming for. One post opened nearly everyone's eyes in the student body and word of mouth only spread the news faster.

So, needless to say, I was feeling pretty damn good about my newfound marketing skills and their effectiveness when the bus pulled up at 5:45pm. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten to take into consideration the 2-for-1 drink special _Mex's_ had promoted for the same evening.

As the last person in line loaded the bus, I'd counted only 107 students, which was still an impressive number, but not nearly as impressive as the number I'd been shooting for. Less than half of the bus was still left open, which meant Damon's bar wouldn't be overflowing like I'd hoped, but when my phone read 5:58pm it became obvious the number was going to have to work.

I'd just turned to step into the bus and join Meredith in the front seat when a familiar voice sounded from across the parking lot.

"Do you have time to make another stop before heading back to that piece of shit town we call home?"

My lids shot back at Bonnie's voice and even further to expose the white around my irises when she jogged up to me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, startled by her presence.

I hadn't expected her to show up, hadn't seen her since my aunt's wedding since she'd respected my wish for space. Her presence was still a bit unsettling and a small bit of anger still resided in my gut, but I had to admit – a part of me was happy to see my former best friend.

"I hope I'm not overstepping my boundaries here, but I thought you could use a little help," she explained, tossing her hand onto her hip. "So I went ahead and promised a few people we'd buy the first round of shots tonight. And don't worry, I have the money."

Apparently I wasn't the only one this evening who'd had the idea of a grand gesture to enhance an apology. We hadn't spoken a single word to each other in weeks and the notion that she would still do something like this for me really resonated.

My mouth was still dangling slightly open when I asked in astonishment, "You really did all that?"

"I know what this means to you, probably have for longer than you," she explained before a tiny smile crept over the corner of her lips and she shrugged. "So yeah."

She was only a foot away, easily within reach to pull her into a hug, but I still wasn't sure if I was ready to forgive her completely. What she'd done was a step in the right direction. And of course the lure of rekindling the familiar friendship we once shared was potent, but only time would tell if we'd ever find that friendship again. And at that moment, enough hadn't passed yet.

Forgoing the hug, I maneuvered us past the cliché emotional moment, and just offered a heartfelt, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she answered, also choosing not dwell on the moment that could have been and instead the night's mission. Her hand slapped the side of the bus before she ordered, "Now let's get this beast started. We have a long way to drive and we still need to swing past the student union to pick up everyone."

"How many people are we talking?" I asked as we both ascended the three stairs into the bus.

When she turned around and shot me a satisfied grin, I knew we'd already hit the number I'd been hoping for even before she said it.

"About 80."

* * *

><p>When the bus pulled up to the bar, I was the first to step out. This had been my project as well, maybe I didn't own the bar or have a stake in its success, but a better portion of my summer had been spent within those walls. The significance of that settled in my gut first before making its way through my limbs, simultaneously blasting me with excitement and panic.<p>

As the students exited the bus and made their way inside, I took the necessary time to settle my nerves. My eyes swept over the jade green exterior admiring the rustic color before they landed on the sign. There, in all of its simplicity, read _The Mystic Grill_. It wasn't a flashy neon sign with meaningless cocktail drinks, but a humble bronze that contrasted nicely against the green. It was modest, only projecting the image that the place was supposed to feel low-key, comfortable – just like a home. Which is exactly what this town represented for Damon. He'd gotten the name right.

With a lingering smile, I entered the bar, only to have that same appreciation over its interior as I did the exterior. I'd seen the place only weeks before, but in that tiny amount of time, Damon had transformed it. Nothing was overstated, none of the finishing were too over the top, and everything felt congruent. Warm, earthy tones still saturated the space with a soothing feeling while the brick surrounding the bar added a high-end touch. He'd achieved the perfect blend with it came to the appearance as well as the combination of restaurant and bar he'd been aiming for.

But honestly, what stood out the most was how much I shined throughout the established. Pieces of me were everywhere: gleaming from the choice of silverware and dinner plates, radiating from the light fixtures I'd begged Damon to choose, pouring from the taps as our beer tasting winners filled glass mugs, smiling at customers from the artwork I'd insisted for the wall, blaring from the speakers as one of my favorite songs saturated the air, and especially staring up at me from the menu that had been thrusted into my hand.

Towards the top of it- nestled between two standard bar food options - read blueberry pancakes. And it was then, standing only a foot inside of Damon's creation that I realized I was still as big a part of him as he was of me. And the panic I'd felt earlier over finally being here dissipated with that single thought, just in time for my tunnel vision to kick in and sphere around Damon.

He was working across the overflowing sea of people, behind the bar, sidestepping Tyler as the two of them handed out drinks. They were both wearing simple navy t-shirts and dark jeans, but it was easy to differentiate. I'd always be able to tell Damon apart. And at the sight of him, that coil of desire I'd never really had the ability to resist tightened within me, alerting me that I was at the right place. My heart jackhammered beneath my rib cage, begging to break free and dart off towards the one responsible for its frantic pulsing when Jenna swept me into a hug.

It'd been two weeks since I'd last seen her, but by the death grip she had on me, you'd have thought it'd been two years.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," she said into my hair, her teeny tiny baby bump pushing against my slender stomach.

"I wasn't either, but Caroline's a persistent little thing," I answered, before pulling back and sneaking another look at Damon. "Where's Ric?"

"Here!" he shouted from the crowd standing in front of the stage. Two drinks were lifted above everyone's heads as he maneuvered his way through the masses.

He handed one - which thankfully looked a lot like water - to Jenna, and wrapped another around my back as he pulled me into a warm embrace. "Glad you could make it, Elena."

"Me too," I replied in earnest, sneaking another glance towards the bar as we pulled apart.

But I wasn't quick enough. Ric followed my line of vision and asked, "Has Damon seen you yet?"

"Not yet," I answered. "I literally just walked through the door."

"Then you'd better head on over before these girls make it impossible to get to him. They're already piling against the bar," Jenna teased. A knowing little smile was positioned on her face that insisted she already knew my prominent reason for coming here and that it wasn't Caroline.

"Okay. You'll still be here when Caroline starts singing?" I asked, not wasting Jenna's offer.

"Of course."

I turned on my heels and headed towards the bar, mouthing a, "How do you already know?" to Jenna as I did.

With a quick rolls of her eyes, her smile stretched to plump her cheeks as she mouthed in response, "I always know."

I shook my head and giggled to myself just in time for my feet to land in front of the bar. Damon and Tyler were both on the other end, but I leaned forward to get a better view of them working and to make my presence known. Like a gravitational pull, Damon's head twisted just as I did, allowing me to catch the grin that permeated his face. I'd almost forgotten how gorgeous that smile was. Almost. It had my knees wobbling, butterflies flapping, and all of that cheesy crap you never really understand until you meet _that_ person.

"Well, if it isn't the girl that walked away," Damon purred, stepping to rest against the opposite side of the bar. So much about that one phrase and its subtext settled in me, emphasizing where we'd been and where we were now.

Resisting the lure to press my lips against the inviting swells of his, I shook my head and countered proudly, "Not exactly."

"Is that so?" he challenged, eyebrows raised towards the ceiling.

"Yep," I insisted, popping the p, and keeping it cheeky.

"So no more rules?" he asked skeptically, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Haven't had a need. They've become obsolete," I vaguely explained, keeping my eyes on the aquamarine pools of his instead of the muscles flexing beneath his shirt.

With his smirk extending and alerting me that he'd already planned his next move, Damon dipped his hand beneath the wooden top of the bar and came back with an empty mug. I watched as he did and had to give him props for his wit. It'd only taken him a second to pin point the only rule I hadn't entirely given up. My 2 drink limit.

He filled the mug and set it against the wooden bar in front of me, somehow keeping the head from spilling over the edges, and challenged, "What about this one?"

"Well," I replied, wrapping my fingers around the beer and pulling it towards me, "it's the one exception."

"At least it's a healthy exception," he offered, clearly amused.

He was so damn close and the current running between us was driving me insane. My eyes clung to the connection of his, unsure of how long I could keep up with our normal tango without breaking. I mean, I'd had my revelation and now I was ready to act on it. But instead of doing just that, words fumbled from my mouth and I was pretty sure I was still referencing the bar. At least I thought I was.

"You've done an amazing job, Damon. You should be proud of yourself."

The blue in his irises sparked at the compliment, or maybe the hidden meaning, but that shift had my stomach muscles clenching in response. Our eyes never broke from the connection and it only seemed to intensify as my stomach inched slightly over the bar separating us. Not too far. Just enough to let him know the intentions speeding circles in my head. Even the wood's contact with my stomach did little to remind me that we were surrounded by customers - in Damon's establishment of all places.

However; Tyler's shouting certainly did the trick.

"Damon, I need your help down here."

It was the only phrase needed to rip Damon's prodigious blue from the chocolate brown of mine as he surveyed the other end of the bar. Feeling the fracture, my body sagged a bit in response as I shifted my sights towards the other end as well. There were at least ten hands dangling amidst the bodies holding money and demanding drinks.

"Business calls," Damon insisted, and I couldn't help but feel a little smug at the pang of disappointment edging the words.

I nodded and shot him an understanding smile before he took off, shouting back, "But drink that and let me know what you think later. I can't keep selling it without your stamp of approval," as he did.

It might have had something to do with the wink he shot me or the heavenly taste of blueberry that slipped down the back of my throat as I sipped his mystery beer, but I actually giggled as he stepped away. Damon was too far to hear it and there were about twelve desperate blondes shooting him googily eyes, but I wasn't worried over the fact that I hadn't been able to say what I'd come here to confess just yet. Because I had proof in the palm of my hand that that's where Damon's heart remained, just like mine remained in his.

My only regret was that it had taken me this long to push away the excuses and accept that inevitable truth. But since I'd made him wait, it was only fair I'd wait for him in return. No matter how long.

I just didn't think that waiting meant sitting on the stiff cement curb outside in the parking lot. If my night had been written into a movie script or novel, a prime opportunity would have presented itself somewhere much earlier into the night where Damon and I could sneak into a closet or his office or someplace private to act as my confessional. Sadly, I wasn't the subject of a romantic comedy or timeless romance. Which meant I'd patiently filled my evening with other faces to pass the time.

I listened to my best friend belt her little heart out on stage. I sipped water while all of my classmates threw back an unbelievable amount of tropical shots. I danced a bit with my aunt before her and Ric headed home for the evening. And I kept my mouth shut as big-breasted bimbo after bimbo tried to sink their claws into my man using tempting VIP passes into their panties for the evening.

He finally exited the bar around 3:30am. My bus had headed back to Richmond a little under two hours prior and everyone else had left around 2am when 'last call' was announced. That left only me, my mosquito-traumatized bare skin, and Damon's bike to greet him when he emerged.

"I thought you'd left already," he admitted, noticing my presence as the door swung shut behind him.

"I couldn't leave without giving you my taste-test stamp of approval," I replied.

"So you liked it?" he asked, closing the distance between us as he stepped towards me and his bike.

"Enough to order a second one."

A smile spread over his lips at my response. There were hardly any streetlamps to offer sufficient lighting, but I didn't need them to fully visualize _that_ smile. It was memorized by heart.

A slight breeze swept past us, carrying with it some of the summer's last lingering warmth, and it sent a few strands of my hair sweeping along my neck and into my face. Damon reached forward to trap the strays delicately behind my ear as he asked, "You brought them all; didn't you?"

He didn't need to clarify who he was referring. I knew he meant the bus load of students I'd loaded into his bar.

My shoulders worked their way through the motions of a shrug, projecting a false sense of nonchalance as I rationalized, "It was the least I could do after what you did for me. You've worked hard on this place and deserved a good start. Hopefully now they'll go back and tell all of their friends how awesome _The Mystic Grill_ is."

"But you didn't head back with them," he observed with a perceptive cock of his head.

"I wasn't ready yet," I admitted.

His fingers still lingered on the line of my cheekbone, his thumb softly stroking the porcelain skin of my cheek, as he asked, "Why not?"

I could feel each subtle caress of his thumb; feel the heat that spread from the area, and the way it sparked sensations within me that only he had the materials to ignite. That simple touch was the only contact I needed to take a deep fulfilling breath of him and confess, "Because you asked me once when the last time was that I'd done something vulnerable and I realized it'd been far too long. So I'm here to fix that."

His eyes bore into mine, clinging to the possible components of my next phrase as I added, "By asking you to stay awake long enough to take me to the first place you realized that I was in love with you."

For a second he stood there, shell shocked. His expression remained unreadable with his lips pursed together and I momentarily wondered if I'd mentally spoken the three important words instead of verbally. Then things started to shift. His eyebrows relaxed first as his cheeks lifted upwards and smile lines creased the edges of his eyes. It was one of the most gratifying visuals I'd ever taken in as the effects of my confession lit up Damon's face.

That fulfilling expression remained plastered over his features for longer than I really felt comfortable admitting, especially since I'd gazed at it in awe the entire time, before he lifted his keys from his pocket and suggested, "You want to drive?"

Any other time I would have whipped those keys from his hands faster than it took the average person to blink. But not tonight. Tonight, I trusted him to get me to the right place.

So I shook my head dejectedly, slipped a giddy smile over my lips, and gave him full control.

"Nah. I'll just hold on."

* * *

><p>I'd known the place we were heading even before Damon pulled off the road. Without the blinders I'd previously struggled to keep in place, I could be honest with myself about the moments Damon and I had <em>really<em> shared over the course of our summer.

Fireflies blinked within the canopy arching over our heads as we road down the dirt path that opened into a beautiful field. It was exactly as I remembered, complete with fresh water spilling down the river towards the falls, and the sweet smell of wildflowers flooding my sense of smell.

The place was perfect – still owning the innocent romance it had on our first night here – and I smiled at the thought and the memories this place held for us. It was perfect for the memory we were hopefully about to create.

When Damon pulled the bike into the tall grass and shut off the headlight, we were only left with the subtle glow of the stars. It was all we needed, offered the perfect mood, as I twined my fingers through his and instructed, "Come on."

I led him to same spot we'd stopped before. There was no blanket this time, but I took a seat anyway, pulling him down into the grass with me. He was studying me, as if he was trying to decipher exactly where I was going with this whole charade, when I decided to surprise him a bit.

"Am I still the only girl you've brought here?" I questioned, pulling my eyes from his silhouette to focus on the river gleaming before us. There was no need for me to hear the answer to his question, I already knew it.

But to my surprise, he countered with a question of own. One that – by the looks of him – he was clearly amused to ask. "Why the interest in my love life?"

I twisted my head towards his and asked in mock offense, "Aren't you interested in mine?"

"You already gave me all I needed to know back at the bar." His head cocked to the side, a smug smirk slipped onto his face, and he shrugged. "No need for rules and all."

"So you already know what's about to happen." It hadn't been a question, more of a statement because it made sense. All along he'd know what was coming for me, even before I'd seen its first rays peak over the horizon.

"I have my hunches, but this could have happened at the bar," he answered in amusement. "Why here?"

My eyes swept over our surroundings, taking everything in, from the memories to the emotions to the visuals; I embraced it all to aid me in what came next. Because we'd arrived at the moment I'd been eager to reach all day. I had one shot at this, one chance to let him know exactly why we were here, and the best part was: it didn't have to come out perfect. Neither of us had ever pretended that we were anyway so what was the point? It just needed to be meaningful, with enough weight for him to feel what I was saying.

Then I gave it my best shot.

"Because this place, and the night I came here with you, was the only time I ever really stopped thinking long enough to just let us happen. And I meant what I said back at the bar, Damon. I love you and we both know you saw it that night, but because of who I was, you didn't use it against me when I freaked out on you in _Best Buy_."

"You _were_ pretty scary that day," he interrupted, contorting his face and making me giggle, which only made my heart expand further in my chest. No one held the capability to make me laugh as hard as I did around him.

"I have my moments," I admitted, shooting him an innocent smile. "But you know that, just like you know when it's the right time to push me and not to. Admitting that I loved you needed to happen when _I_ was ready, when I'd finally stopped letting fear over my past _and_ my future control the decisions I made."

The moonlight reflected over his face, separating the blue of his eyes and making them shine like sapphires. They didn't drift from mine as the importance of this moment had me lifting to my feet and him hanging on every word.

"So that's why I'm here; to tell you that I've done things on my own. I've forgiven Stefan and moved on from my past, I've become a person that I'm pretty darn proud of. And I've spent the past six weeks pretending that was enough, that this person I'd been aiming to be would feel like enough, but it doesn't."

My words were finally matching my heartbeat as confessions I'd even kept from myself came spilling from my lips. It felt wonderful, revitalizing, and defining as I paved this new path for our future and admitted, "Because I wouldn't be this person without you. Your impact was just too _big_ to ignore."

A huge grin infiltrated his face then at my incorporation of his initial description of us. Then his brows flipped exuberantly into the air and his eyes drifted to his crotch.

"Not _that_ impact," I laughed out with a roll of my eyes. This was the person I'd changed for. This was the person I'd fallen in love with. And I had to admit, without a shadow of a doubt, that I'd chosen correctly. "The impact you've had on _me_."

"Right," he submitted doing his best to return to the serious matter at hand. However; his smirk failed to slip from his lips as he lifted himself from the earth to stand at my level. "Then I guess it turns out my line was right all along."

"Yeah, I guess it was. But that doesn't mean we're guaranteed to beat the long distance odds or that I won't somehow disappoint you in the future. I'm still terrified about that," I rambled before taking a deep breath. The oxygen swept in and out of my lungs when I declared, "What it does mean is that I'm done with finding excuses and I'm ready."

"For this," I clarified sweeping my hand between the two us as I added, "For you and me to give it our best damn shot. So what do you say?"

My eyes remained wide as I waited for his answer. Silence settled around us as our words ceased, filling the night with nothing other than the sound of chirping crickets and sweeping wind. Damon was making me wait it out, trying to get me to sweat, but I knew him too well. The expression resting on his face revealed everything, even despite his attempt to keep it indecipherable. I guess that's what happens when you have a connection like ours. Words aren't always needed to understand the other.

Still, I waited him out, playing into the silence, and gave Damon his moment before his arm finally swept out to pull me against his chest. I settled there naturally, curving my body into his and accepting this was where I belonged.

"I'd say I've _been_ ready, I was just waiting on you," he proclaimed, lowering his forehead to rest against mine.

I looked slightly north into the eyes that had been the first thing to capture me and never really let me go. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long."

His fingertips lifted to glide across the skin of my cheek, sending shivers down my spine, as his lips morphed into his signature smirk. God, I loved that smirk. "I've always known you were worth it," he admired, leaning forward and tilting his head to the side as he did.

"I hope I prove you right," I breathed out as anticipation crept through me.

Damon's lips came to a halt just millimeters from mine. The electricity was crackling in the tiny space separating me from what I craved so much. "You have so far."

Then his lips melted into mine, that perfect possessive way that signified he finally believed I was his. And just like the ones Damon's father had brought him here to witness, fireworks erupted behind my eyes, exploding into bright brilliant colors.

I'd kissed Damon more times than I could count, but there was a difference this time that made it stand out from the rest. Because this time, I wasn't that girl who'd given up on love and feared the devastations it caused. There were no longer any barriers, there were no fears or restrictions or deadlines keeping me from getting sucked under by the current of us. There was only satisfaction, bliss, and the potential of a future that only months ago I'd completely written off.

Never again did I expect I'd feel what I did, nor did I ever imagine someone like Damon to been waiting for me here, in the home town I'd hated, ready to take me on and stick by me through thick and thin. But he had. And I had no idea what the future had in store for us or if we were going to make it last, but I was confident we'd at least make it past three months this time. The old cutoff didn't nearly seem like a sufficient amount of time now as he pulled away.

My lids remained shut a second longer as the essence of his lips left lingering vibrations along mine. I relished the feeling and when my eyes opened, Damon's eyes were narrowed and a devilish smirk had already been slapped on his face.

"This is great and all," he offered, "but there's another memory I wouldn't mind reliving while we're here."

"What did you have in mind?" I asked cheekily.

"I think you know," Damon whispered before cocking his head to the side and taking a step back. And without speaking another word, he ripped his uniform over his head and dropped his jeans to the ground before shooting off in the direction of the river.

I stood there dumbfounded over what had just happened, when Damon shouted, "Are you coming?"

It was all I needed to shake myself out of my trance and shed my own clothes. I took off towards the river, catching up to Damon just before he launched himself over the edge and jumped in. I followed a second later, not hesitating under any outside influence, as I dove head first into the stream, submerging myself back into a world of technicolor. The one I shared with the man I loved.

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><p><strong>There's still an epilogue left. I bet you can't guess what happens. ;)<strong>

_**Please Read and Review! :) Especially this time guys. Otherwise my anxiety might kill me before I get the chance to write that epilogue. You think I'm joking... I'm not. Okay, maybe just a little bit.**_

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	26. Epilogue

**Well everyone, here were are. The final chapter. And it's short and sweet. I really hope you all have enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I kind of have the urge to burst into tears; that's how much I've fallen in love with this one. **

**But one last time… I want to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed, subscribed, favorited, and read this story. Your support is the reason I was able to finish this after the S3 finale and I can't thank you enough.**

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><p><strong>Two Summers Later<strong>

The wind blew subtly, catching branches and blades of grass in its motion. Squirrels darted between white oaks and sparrows gathered on top of the gazebo. Rays of light streaked across the scenery, illuminating everything in brilliant tones of gold and pink. Running water from the stream cut through the noise, underscoring nature at its purest, making everything come alive. It was such a vast difference from the image I'd held of this place years ago. The one painted with harsh strokes of betrayal, dabs of mourning, splatters of tears, and the overall color palette of death.

Gazing at the image and listening to the subtle sounds of my tiny town, I knew that this place - the one I once held so much animosity and fear towards - was indeed my home. Maybe once I'd thought that title could be given to some distant destination offering solace from everything I was running away from, but not anymore. Those demons had been faced months ago, alongside the man who'd finally opened my eyes and got me to stop running. It only made sense that after overcoming all of that, I'd settled here with him, in the very town I'd been running from.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, guiding me from the solitary moment I'd found myself in, only two weeks after I'd moved back to Mystic Falls and into his grandiose house.

He'd found me in one of my favorite spots, tucked away in his bedroom's window nook. At his intrusion, I turned my attention from the scene behind the screen just in time to see Damon saunter his way into the room. Even after the time we'd shared together, it still surprised me every time the mere sight of him had my lips curling into a smile and a sigh loading in the back of my throat.

"Nothing," I dismissed with a quick shake of the head, feeling the smile extend to my eyes. "Is Tyler all moved out?"

"Yep, the house is ours and ours alone," he replied, stepping across the hardwood to lounge on the king bed.

The tone of his voice and its implication stroked that deep spot in me, the one he'd only ever had the ability to reach.

The house was finally _ours_. It'd been Damon's choice to persuade his best friend to move in with his new girlfriend, the one who wasn't Caroline. They'd parted on pleasant terms, without a bad word spoken from either party. The distance, which so few could overcome, had simply been too much for their relationship to handle. It required a deep resounding love that they both wish they'd shared, but unfortunately it wasn't the case. Not like Damon and me.

That didn't mean Damon and I didn't have our fair share of fights. We did. Distance was hard, even for the strongest couples and I'd spent the occasional night crying into a pillow at Richmond over some silly argument I'd started simply over the fact of missing him so damn much. But at the end of the day, we always found ourselves back in each other's arms, whether it was in his bed here in Mystic Falls or my tiny twin in Richmond. It's where we both felt most comfortable anyways.

"I can't pretend I hate the sound of that," I mused, raising myself from the window and stepping to the edge of the bed. "But I have to ask," I inquired with one brow lifted, "who are you going to trick into cleaning it now?"

"What? I have to trick someone?" he countered, feigning shock before his arm swept out to pull me onto the bed with him. I released a giggle as my body suddenly became nestled between Damon's and his luxurious comforter.

"I thought part of the deal of you moving in here was that you became my personal maid," he taunted, sweeping stray hairs from my face to alleviate their interference. "I give you free board and you give me free services. It's a win/win."

His eyes glimmered mischievously above mine; his standard smirk firmly adhered to his lips, as I wrestled underneath of his hold. "I'm here for other reasons, you ass," I defended, resisting the urge to burst out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter as his fingertips pushed into the most sensitive divots of my sides.

"Okay, you're right," he succumbed. And I _was_ right.

Of course I'd moved in with Damon for the obvious reason, but there were so many more factors that came into play. I was the sole member of his marketing team, the one responsible for the advertisements lining the highway, the organization with the women of the town's council for hosted events, the quickly spreading word of mouth that kept his business the success it was, and the employee that made it worth his while to stay late certain nights in order to reenact specific memories from when the place was a dusty pile of lumber. I'd done the tasks before I graduated because I cared for Damon and wanted him to succeed. Now, I did them because it was my job and his bar was as big a part of my life as it was his. If it tanked, we both went down with it – together.

His place was also a short drive away from my parent's old home. The one which currently housed two crazy parents chasing after their daughter who'd just discovered she could walk. My aunt, Ric, and their little bundle of joy were a mess. The best kind of mess; with laughter, fabric stains, and pictures flooding my aunt's Instagram account. Her latest had been taken in my old bedroom, which had been transformed into Isabel's nursery, and had my niece sprawled on the bed between a glowing Ric and Jenna's re-expanding tummy.

Damon's fingers slid down my sides to capture my hips and pull my body down the bed, flush against his. With a leg firmly wrapped around each of his sides, my eternal effect on his libido was evident against my center.

"And we should probably start taking advantage of those reasons. You have rent to pay," he demanded, smoothing his right hand out flat as it drifted from my waste and up towards my breasts.

The move and seductive, yet devilish, set to his lashes had my insides clenching immediately. Naughty thoughts and delicious intentions flitted into my mind as his lips fastened themselves to my neck, but I wasn't letting him get away with that one.

"Damon Salvatore!" I exasperated through laughter, resulting in a heavy blast of vibrations against my neck as he released chuckles along the delicate stretch of skin.

The lure of his seduction technique was still present. But resisting every urge to grind myself against the bulge tantalizing the space between my thighs, I reached behind me and latched my fingers onto the nearest pillow. Then I swung it at his face.

In my mind, the force I executed with that hit must have rivaled that of a professional boxer's swing. And when the pillow busted on contact, sending feathers exploding into the air, I was feeling pretty damn smug.

For a moment, Damon seemed to forget how to do anything but stare at me, complete with a bewildered expression splashed over his features, as white feathers gracefully drifted all around us. Then he blinked. And I knew all bets were off.

"Look what you did," he taunted, wrapping his right arm around my neck and pulling me into a complicated headlock. "Now you're gonna have to clean that up."

Laughter ripped through me, combining with the twisted position I'd found myself in, as I attempted to breath. It was difficult, but manageable as I threatened, "Don't start something we don't have time to finish. You know I'm meeting the girls in a half hour."

My dinner date with Caroline, Bonnie and Meredith had been scheduled for weeks and as much as I currently wanted to forgo special time with my girls to take advantage of the man contorting me into naughty positions, I couldn't. Not when it was Caroline's farewell dinner. It was the last time I'd see her in weeks, or at least until I got my butt up to New York to see her in the chorus on Broadway.

"Fine. I'll be on my best behavior," Damon conceded as he released his hold on my head and lifted to rest above me. His weight was evenly distributed between each arm and his mouth was just a breath away. "Besides, the good thing about having you here is that I can take advantage of you later."

"And I give you full permission," I replied cheekily, shifting my brows briefly towards my hairline before pressing a kiss against his lips.

When we pulled apart, his eyes remained locked on mine and his body didn't lift from the bed. There was adoration rimming those irises I'd fallen in love with, taking me by the heart and giving it a swift tug. We remained like that for a moment, in the silence that never felt forced or uncomfortable, before he inquired, "But really, what were you thinking about when I walked in? By the looks of you, you were thinking pretty hard about something.

"I was just thinking about us," I admitted truthfully, reaching to pluck a rebel white feather from his hair. "Me. Being here."

Understanding flooded his eyes before slipping down to his smile. "Who would have guessed that the girl who so desperately wanted to get away from this place has now decided to root herself here."

"Well, I guess things change," I mused. "People and mindsets included." Or at least they did when someone like Damon Salvatore entered their life and refused to back down. He'd been quite a force. One I hadn't regretted meeting and allowing into my life a single day since.

"I guess they do," he agreed softly, the tone of his voice mimicking the caress of his breath against the soft skin of my cheek.

"Now what are _you_ thinking about?" I asked as his eyes studied me, searching my features as if I had the answer to every question on his mind. I liked to think that I did.

His eyes softened at my question and a smile lit his face as he replied, "I'm just thinking about that time I saw you stranded on the side of the highway. And how relieved I felt when I realized it was you."

"Relieved?" I interjected, lifting my hands to play with the random chunks of hair around his ears. "Because I was the only girl to ever resist that lure of yours and you needed to redeem yourself?"

"You _were_ the only girl to ever resist my charm, at first," he clarified, enhancing the truth with narrowed eyes charged in my direction. Then they softened again. "But that's not the reason."

Damon maneuvered his hand slightly so it could mimic the movements of mine. With his fingers twined through strands of my hair he confessed, "Since the first time I saw you, it's felt different."

"Different?" I questioned with knitted brows. "Care to clarify?"

"This thing between you and me. It felt different; from the very beginning," he proclaimed, inching forward to place a kiss against my head. The touch of his skin and the weight of his confession had my nerve endings lit up like the Fourth of July. "And I went months after our first meeting knowing that and thinking I'd missed my opportunity, only for you to suddenly pop up on the side of the highway."

I frowned. "I was a bitch to you that day."

"But you were hot," he countered with his traditional smirk, "which of course made it okay."

"Naturally," I rationalized in amusement.

His eyes seemed to brighten in response before his smirk became a genuine mega-watt smile. The happiness radiating from it, which rivaled my own, was almost blinding. "It was then that I realized we had our chance. That this wasn't going to be some tiny blip of a relationship on our radars."

"When I was acting like a bitch to you on the side of the highway?" I countered, skeptical that my ice queen act had produced that sort of response from him.

"Even before then," he corrected, shaking his head slightly. "It happened when your mouth dropped and you realized it was me. You put up one hell of a front, but darling, you are 100% readable and I knew from the start that you felt it. You knew it was different too."

His confidence was turned on high, the very confidence that had led to this moment and us being here – together. It'd been both a turn on and an annoyance in the beginning, but now it was just a trait that I respected. Without that confidence, he would have given up on me and my unbreakable walls before I ever got the chance to feel what I did without them. For him.

"You always had faith in me and that intuition of yours," I commended. "Even when I went back to school."

"Well," he drawled, cocking his head to the side, "obviously I had my doubts, but – as you know – Caroline helped me deal with those."

There was a cunning little twist to his lips as I revisited the memory of Caroline finally coming clean. They'd both sat me down at the grill one night to tell me that when I broke things off with Damon and continued to live in my state of denial at school, she'd kept him informed on my dating life. Or lack thereof.

I hadn't been mad; not even close.

In a way, I'd been grateful. Thankful that her optimistic heart couldn't let the concept of Damon and I as a couple fade, while still respecting me and my state of denial enough to let me realize things on my own. She'd been a great friend, always will be, even if she had a big mouth.

"She always liked you," I mused, running my finger along the soft swell of his lips.

"With good reason," he replied.

"_Very_ good reason," I agreed, before inching my hand around his neck to pull him into a slow, sensual kiss.

When we pulled apart, his voice was unmistakably huskier, as he proclaimed, "You know, sometimes I look at you and I don't think I could even begin to describe how much I love you."

"You don't have to say anything," I said - because it was true. The sweep of his thumb against my cheek, the gentle response of his lips against mine, and the affection streaming from his eyes said it for him. The man was still as consumed by this as I was.

With great effort, I lowered my voice to mimic the tone of his and mocked, "Because you, my darling, are 100% readable."

"Is that so?" he asked, eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"Absolutely." Of that, I was 100% confident.

"So you know what's about to happen?"

It was the very question I'd asked him by the river. Difference was, I didn't know what was about to happen.

"You're going to kiss me goodbye before I head off to meet the girls," I supplied innocently, giving it my best guess.

"Before that," he instructed, sliding his hand down the side of my body.

"You're going to say something sweet to make me love you even more than I already do?" I teased.

He scoffed, dipping his hand further south on my body. "That's impossible and I've been saying sweet things all morning. But you're getting closer."

"You're…" I started when his hand slipped into his pocket. "You're…" I tried again, but the action was too distracting. Especially when he pulled out a box and placed it onto my stomach. "Holy shit! You're going to propose," I exclaimed; the words fumbled from my mouth without any form of tact. It made sense considering the frantic and jumbled state of my mind.

Shock, awe, terror, exhilaration, and general hysteria broke out inside of me. Gears were cranking and thoughts were spiraling through my mind as I tried to get a grip on what was really was really happening. That was the inside. On the outside, my jaw just went slack and my body stiffened.

"Elena Gilbert, you are the most insightful woman I've ever met," he teased, laughing at my reaction. "One who apparently reads me remarkably well."

"Damon," I chastised, suddenly reclaiming the use of my motor skills and limbs as my hands shot to the sides of my cheeks. "You're proposing, stop making me laugh!"

Of course, he laughed again. The sound was beautiful, gripping me where it was the most effective – around the heart.

"Since the first moment I saw you, I knew that you were going to be a challenge. You didn't let me down in that regard, still haven't, but I wouldn't change anything about what it took to get us from that first night to right now. I've changed you. You've shaped me. Because of that, we've overcome more than any couple should ever be able to. And through it all, I never doubted us once and I doubt I ever will."

There was more adoration shining from his crystal blue eyes than I thought humanly possible. And despite the previously frenzied state of my thoughts, they all halted to watch him slide down the side of the bed, taking the box with him. I couldn't see his legs, but I didn't need to to understand he was on one knee.

He waited a second; probably giving my heart a second to regulate it's frantic beating, before he flipped the box open. Nestled inside was a single diamond. It was princess cut, glimmering under the streaks of light breaking through the window, and all mine if I wanted it.

My eyes seemed incapable of peeling from that vision, but miraculously they did as Damon's voice broke through the silence. "I have to ask you this one question because despite the odds, we're still here. I've gone a year and a half being separated from you, pretending that every other weekend was enough, and I don't want to go another day without you in my bed. So, Elena, will you marry me?"

Each word in his last question had come out distinctly separate, stretching its appealing invite into something otherworldly. There was hope on his features, the sparkle of them rivaling that of the very ring in his hands, and I couldn't believe that this was happening. How did I - Elena Gilbert and previous cynic when it came to matters of the heart – ever find this man? I had no idea. But I wasn't about to let him go.

"Yes."

The word came out as more of a squeak than anything as I launched myself from the bed and into his arms. In usual fashion, he saw my action before I'd even prepared for it, and caught me with both arms. His hands fisted into my hair, pulling me into him as my lips met his, creating the seamless fusion we'd just verbally established.

I kissed him with all I had, feeling elation pump through my veins with each glide of his tongue along mine. And when we pulled apart and he slid the ring onto my finger, I gazed down at it with eyes as wide as saucers.

"Do you realize what you just asked me?" I cried out in disbelief. The moment still didn't seem real to me, more like a happy ending from a ridiculous fairy tale I swore I'd stopped believing years ago, but it _was_ real. This had happened. I was going to be Damon Salvatore's wife.

My eyes darted between the ring currently resting on my finger, shouting to the world that I was a claimed woman, and the blue eyes that whispered I'd never regret agreeing to it. And then I laughed, hysterically, feeling the weight of this moment get the best of me as liquid flooded my eyes.

"I've had weeks to plan for this," he said, excitement lacing through his words as his hands lifted to capture the sides of my face. "The real questions is do _you_ realize what you just agreed to?"

As my eyes shifted from the ring and onto the man who'd reassembled the broken fragments of my past, I did. I knew exactly what I'd agreed to.

I'd been told that people came into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. With Damon, I'd anticipated it being the second, had been shocked to discover it was the first, but now I understood. It didn't necessarily have to be one or the other. He'd entered my life to claim all three. What had started as a summer romance had turned into the summer and the man who'd changed my life. It only made sense that he'd earned the lifetime that came with it.

So I pulled Damon closer, feeling the heat of his cheek as it rested against mine and savored the certainty behind my next word. Then I whispered, "Forever."

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><p><em><strong>Please Read and Review! :)<strong>_

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